When the Music’s Over, the Myth Remains

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MOVIE REVIEWS
The Doors – Lionsgate Limited exclusive 4K Ultra HD™ + Blu-ray™ + Digital Steelbook®

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Genre: Music, Drama
Year Released: 1991, Lionsgate Limited 4K 2026
Runtime: 2h 22m
Director(s): Oliver Stone
Writer(s): Randall Jahnson, Oliver Stone
Cast: Val Kilmer, Meg Ryan, Kyle MacLachlan, Kevin Dillon, Frank Whaley
Where to Watch: available February 17, 2026. Pre-order your copy here: www.lionsgatelimited.com


RAVING REVIEW: What happens when a filmmaker decides accuracy matters less than immersion? THE DOORS answers that question with a clear vision, not with restraint, but with a full-bodied plunge into sensation, ego, and excess. Oliver Stone’s vision of Jim Morrison isn’t designed to explain the man; it’s designed to make you feel what it might have been like to exist inside his world, and that distinction is crucial to understanding why this film still provokes such divided reactions more than three decades later.


At the center of everything is Val Kilmer, delivering one of the most uncanny performances ever committed to a music biopic. This isn’t mimicry for its own sake. Kilmer’s Morrison isn’t simply accurate in voice or movement; he’s precise in volatility. There’s an unpredictability to his performance that never feels rehearsed. You believe this version of Morrison could derail a concert, a relationship, or an entire room without warning. Even critics who reject Stone’s interpretation almost universally concede that Kilmer is operating on another level entirely.

Stone, however, wasn’t interested in balance. THE DOORS is unapologetically subjective, framing Morrison as a self-mythologizing force of nature rather than a collaborative artist within a band. Ray Manzarek, Robby Krieger, and John Densmore are present and effectively portrayed, but they function largely as placeholders. This is less a story about a band than a character study of obsession, charisma, and collapse. That choice narrows the film’s range, but it also sharpens its focus.

The structure reflects Morrison’s state of being, more than his account. Scenes bleed into one another, concerts blur with hallucination, and reality is constantly undercut by altered perception. Stone’s direction leans hard into visual symbolism, Native American imagery, desert visions, and ritualistic framing. Sometimes this heightens the experience. Other times it overwhelms it. The film’s length and repetition mirror Morrison’s spiral, but that mirroring comes at the cost of momentum.

Meg Ryan’s Pamela Courson is one of the film’s more contentious elements. She’s written largely as a reaction rather than presence, defined by her proximity to Morrison rather than her own depth. This isn’t a performance issue as much as a scripting limitation. The film simply isn’t interested in Pamela as a person, only as a witness to Morrison’s unraveling. Kathleen Quinlan fares slightly better, injecting tension and contrast, but again, the pull of Morrison consumes everything.

What THE DOORS captures exceptionally well is the era's texture. The concerts feel dangerous, not choreographed. Stone avoids romanticizing the sixties as just a countercultural moment. Instead, he presents it as a period fueled by ego, excess, and contradiction. The film understands that liberation and self-destruction often share the same stage.

As a biopic, the film is undeniably flawed. It simplifies, exaggerates, and omits. Morrison is portrayed as more cruel, more erratic, and more singular than many who knew him would argue is fair. But as a piece of cinema, those distortions feel intentional rather than careless. Stone isn’t documenting history. He’s questioning the man and the myth. This is Morrison as America wanted to see him, feared him, and eventually consumed him.

Revisiting the film now, especially in light of its 4K restoration and renewed physical media presentation, underscores how tactile and aggressive Stone’s filmmaking was during this period. The sound design, concert staging, and visuals benefit from modern restoration, but the core experience remains confrontational. This isn’t a comfort watch. It never was. The film wants you to be exhausted in the end, the same way Morrison did to those around him.

Where THE DOORS succeeds the most is in its refusal to sanitize. Many music biopics strive for a clean ending or a redemption arc. Stone offers neither. Morrison doesn’t grow, learn, or reconcile. He burns. The film’s final stretch in Paris feels less like closure than dissolution, a quiet fading after relentless noise. That decision may frustrate viewers looking for meaning, but it aligns with the film’s thesis that meaning was never Morrison’s priority.

THE DOORS remains an uneven, indulgent, often frustrating film, but it’s also fearless in a way few studio biopics ever dare to be. Its excess is both its greatest flaw and its defining strength. Anchored by a performance that has only grown in stature over time, the film endures not because it tells the definitive story of Jim Morrison, but because it captures the dangerous illusion of living like nothing applies to you.

It’s not perfect. It’s not balanced. But it’s alive and impossible to ignore.

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[photo courtesy of LIONSGATE LIMITED]

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