This third version of A Star Is Born (a fourth would arrive in 2018) is by far the weakest. Shifting the original Hollywood setting into the world of rock music, this 1976 remake was plagued by a famously messy production—so much so that director Frank Pierson later detailed the chaos in a New West Magazine article titled “My Battles with Barbra and Jon” (Jon being Streisand’s boyfriend and the film’s producer). At the peak of her fame, Barbra Streisand had enormous creative control, influencing everything from the lighting and tone to the costumes (she wore her own clothes), while allegedly cutting scenes that focused on co-star Kris Kristofferson. The result is a film completely shaped around her image—an image that now feels frozen in time. Between the dated hair, fashion, and music, the film has aged more like a pop culture relic than a timeless love story.
Because Esther (Streisand) is already confident, stage-ready, and only needs one brief pep talk to step into stardom, the film skips over any real sense of discovery. In her very first recording session, she’s already giving feedback to the musicians. As a result, we never truly buy into the romance she’s supposed to have with John Norman Howard (Kristofferson). It doesn’t help that their most romantic scene involves her putting glitter in his eyebrow and drawing funny makeup on him in a bathtub. That weak connection downplays the tragedy that should sit at the heart of any A Star Is Born movie. She’s introduced as the lead singer of a trio called The Oreos (because she sings between two Black backup singers… yeah, facepalm), performing some fairly weak funk songs.
To its credit, despite those missteps, the film commits fully to the music industry setting and creates some genuinely engaging moments during the studio sessions. The concert scenes later in the film are technically impressive, and the Oscar nomination for sound was well-deserved—it must’ve been a nightmare to capture and mix those sequences. But the problem is that the 2018 Bradley Cooper version does everything this one attempts—only infinitely better. It retains the music-industry backdrop but delivers far stronger songs, a more believable romance, and filmmaking that feels vastly more polished.
Actions and character mistakes carry little weight here. The film sidesteps a Grammy fiasco and the betrayal with the world’s worst reporter, quickly moving on like it’s avoiding complexity like the plague. (That said, I’ll give this version credit for one thing it does better than both the 2018 and 1954 versions: John’s final choice is entirely his own, not the result of someone blatantly suggesting it.)
Both Streisand and Kristofferson look the part, and hearing Barbra sing is always a treat. But by the time the last eight minutes unfold in a tight close-up, it’s obvious that the film is more interested in glorifying her image than telling a tragic story. Unfortunately for Barbra, as much as she wanted to shift the focus, the male arc in this story is the more emotionally compelling one—and the moment when John picks up the phone meant for Esther is quietly devastating. As for Barbra, the truth is, the star had already been born in 1968 with Funny Girl. This one? It’s more A Star Misfires.