Director Oliver Stone turns his uncompromising gaze on the self destruction of a rock star. The Adonis-like (well, to begin with) Jim Morrison of The Doors died at 27 and, if this account of his later life is to be relied on, the only wonder is that he lived that long. Deeply into drugs and booze, he was barely ever in his right mind, yet found time to write poetry and poetic lyrics to songs as well. As played by Val Kilmer here, Jim was a born exhibitionist with a death wish. 'Death turns you on? ' asks his long-suffering girlfriend (Meg Ryan, ditzier than usual). 'Life,' he tells her, 'hurts a lot more. When you die, the pain is over.' This is one of the few coherent conversations between a cast of characters who become tiresome long before the film is over. Stone's movie is wonderfully well put together, but we never get to know Jim, or any of the others involved. Kilmer works hard, but it's difficult to care about a character with so few redeeming features. Kathleen Quinlan is fiercely effective in a showy supporting role.