The story, such as it is, centers around The Kid (Prince), a misunderstood sensitive artist type who, given his questionable wardrobe choices, probably got beaten up a lot in high school. Now he hides in the basement of his parents' house while evil Dad takes drunken swings at saintly Mom. When the tension is too much to bear, he chooses from his vast collection of leather and lace, pulls together a fetching and effeminate purple ensemble, hops on his kick-ass purple motorcycle, and heads to downtown Minneapolis, where he and his band are rising stars in the frenetic Twin Cities club scene.
Continue reading: Purple Rain Review
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