Loosely inspired by Carole King's life, indie stalwart Allison Anders' underrated Grace Of My Heart chronicled a talented songwriter's anonymous role in the Brill Building, an efficient factory that churned out girl-pop hits in the '50s and '60s. Her follow-up, Sugar Town, also tells a parallel history of rock 'n' roll, but in contrast, its cadre of L.A. burnouts and wannabes are cast adrift, disconnected from the music industry. In a fit of inspiration, Anders and co-writer/director Kurt Voss wrote the film in less than a week, which probably accounts for both its invigorating creative urgency and its serious third-act problems. Ambitious, knowing, and often savagely funny, Sugar Town surveys the fringes of the rock scene, centering on a "supergroup" of '80s leftovers trying to post a comeback. In a brilliant piece of casting, Anders and Voss convinced real-life '80s leftovers—Duran Duran's John Taylor, Power Station's Michael Des Barres, and Spandau Ballet's Martin Kemp—to star, and their authenticity and humble self-deprecation are a consistent pleasure. The film splinters, Short Cuts-style, into numerous subplots: Taylor and wife Rosanna Arquette, the heroine of Z-grade slasher movies with titles such as Bury Your Bones In My Garage, discover he has an illegitimate son; aging roadie John Doe reluctantly goes on tour to support his growing family and junkie brother; and aspiring songstress Jade Gordon ruthlessly exploits everyone she meets on her way to the top, including emotionally unstable production designer Ally Sheedy. Anders and Voss create more than a dozen vivid characters, but they're not so adept at tying up all the loose ends. Sugar Town suffers from a plodding, obligatory conclusion, but not before offering a witty, sympathetic glimpse at a group of rock stars coping with passing fame and real adult responsibility.