Weekly Review 52: AGUIRRE, RISKY, JODOROWSKY'S, 12 O'CLOCK, TAKEI

August 31, 2014 by Matt Oakes Posted in Weekly Review Tagged 12 O'Clock Boys, Aguirre: The Wrath of God, Jodorowsky's Dune, Risky Business, To Be Takei, Weekly Review

This week has held no press screenings until Thursday night which means I’ve had plenty of time to catch up on my hit list. As Above/So Below screened the night before it was opening, a generally telltale sign of bad things to come, but proved to be a madcap fright-fest. More by random chance than anything, I found myself watching three documentaries from 2014; Jodorowsky’s Dune, 12 O’Clock Boys and To Be Takei; each of which was great for their own reasons; a reminder of why I love documentaries as much as I do. Additionally, I caught up with two older classics, Werner Herzog‘s Aguirre: The Wrath of God and Risky Business starring Tom Cruise, both of which I enjoyed monumentally. So all in all, a very good week for Weekly Review.

AGUIRRE: THE WRATH OF GOD (1972)

Haunting and electrifying, Aguirre: The Wrath of God is the story of one man’s descent into madness with Klaus Kinski giving an unhinged performance as the hubristic titular character. The story follows Aguirre’s quest through Peru to find El Dorado as loyalties falter around him and insanity takes hold. It’s got an unnaturally real feel to it, accenting the existing eerieness of Werner Herzog‘s production. It’s as if Aguirre is partially a documentary in spirit and Herzog is a guide taking us into 1530 and stranding us there for 93 minutes. His minimalist, fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants directorial style leads to a bevy of moments that could have never been choreographed or planned, making the whole endeavor that much more wondrous and awesome. (A)

RISKY BUSINESS (1983)

If Ferris Bueller picked up a hooker on his day off, John Hughes‘ classic tale of teenage ruckus would probably look a lot more like Risky Business. Paul Brickman‘s venture into adolescent male fantasy is marked by a subtlety oft missing from most coming of age stories from the same generation. In such, Risky Business is a groundbreaking, almost earth-shattering picture. One can also point to Risky for Tom Cruise‘s breakout role and for good reason. Though Cruise’s voice is still crackling with youth, he showcases the effortless charm, rebellious tinge and winning smile that would go on to define his success. All in all, Risky Business is a winning formula that sees ultra-sexualized feminine guile slam on the shores of pubescent, budding masculinity and the funny, poignant mess such leaves behind. (B+)

JODOROWSKY’S DUNE (2014)

A captivating journey into what should have been but never was, Jodorowsky’s Dune is a bittersweet fairy tale. The most influential film that was never made, Jodorowsky’s vision for his film version of Dune has bleed a plethora of its distinctively forward-looking DNA into most iconic of films. Star Wars, Alien, Terminator, The Matrix, this mind-boogling documentary presupposes that without the Dune that never was, none of these would have ever existed. Perhaps the most intriguing aspect is the stable of off-kilter talent Jodorowsky was able to reel into the project, including none other than Dali (yes, that Dali) and Mick Jagger. Though it’s almost depressing to see such a work of passion crash and burn as hard as it did, at least this wonderfully captured chronology of Jodorowsky’s Dune will carry on the legacy of one of Hollywood’s wildest and most missed-out on production. (A-)

12 O’CLOCK BOYS (2014)

A searing look into the ethos of a gang of Baltimore dirt bikers, 12 O’Clock Boys follows young wannabe Pug as he aspires to join up with the revered crew. Named after the posture of a dirt bike pulling a gravity-defying wheelie, the 12 o’clock boys are at odds with the local police and the community at large. While they’re not gang members of the gat-wielding variety, their vehicular acrobatics puts other drivers at risk and often leads to the gruesome demise of their members. It’s a hard watch that’ll elicit conflicting emotions and is especially pertinent in the wake of the Ferguson events. While we as an audience struggle to relate to a fast growing Pug – the doc filmed him for three years – we can’t help but judge him and his hapless, tragic descent into hoodlumdom. As film tracks Pug over that span of years, we see a transformation from a child who dreamed of being a veterinarian to a teenager who kicks his own dog to quiet it down. Unfortunately, 12 O’Clock Boys ends abruptly and without warning, as if it had to be rushed to the theater and we’re left guessing of the fate of the character we’ve grown attached to, leaving us without the closure and moments of reflection that the film so badly needed. (B-)

TO BE TAKEI (2014)

Actor turned activist George Takei might be best known for his role as Sulu on the original Star Trek series but it’s his constant strife for social equality that makes him as important a figure as he is today. Bill Weber and Jennifer M. Kroot‘s biography digs up Takei’s roots, his tenure on Star Trek, his later plight for egalitarianism and his oddly bumbling, indescribably pure relationship with Brad Altman. Even though the documentarians seem more focused on cramming in all the facts than of stream-lined and laser-focusing their effort, they find immeasurably powerful moments in Takei’s brutal honesty, especially in the later half of the film. We learn that Takei’s struggle is not just that of a gay man but of a Japanese gay man; a man who’s been beat down by homophobic political policies; a man who spent a portion of his childhood in the American Japanese Internment camps. From being a politic ally to Bill Clinton to appearing on the Howard Stern Show, Takei’s journey as a human being has all but become one big boxing match for equality and even though the film biographing him isn’t perfectly constructed, it’s a forceful reckoning with our skewed political agendas and often emotionally hard-hitting to boot. Plus, it’s nice to spend a little more time with George Takei. (B)

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Documentary Dossier: JODOROWSKY’S DUNE

April 24, 2014 by Chris Bunker Posted in Documentaries, Out in Theaters Tagged Alejandro Jodorowsky, Dune, Jodorowsky's Dune, Out in Theaters, Reviews 1 Comment

Four critics were sitting in AMC’s Pacific Place Theater 7 when I walked in. It was instantly noticeable: a strange, syncopated rhythm of staticky beat-box. Kind of like the sound you hear when you rim the audio jack on a speaker system with your finger. The crackling and buzzing grew worse as we sat, until it was operating at about four beats per second. More critics walked into the cramped space, all to the same static, electronic concerto. Louder and louder it grew until even thoughts became inaudible. Then it stopped, and Jodorowsky’s Dune began.

Alejandro Jodorowsky is what results when lunacy is inbred with sadistic perversion. He’s an acid trip embodied. His ideas are just as wild. As you watch him throw his thoughts around, you can’t figure out if he disgusts you or thrills you. He’s reminiscent of the old homeless folk you run into on a public bus, the type that’s dying to tell you his crackpot theory: Jesus Christ is building a golden city in the sewer and George W. Bush killed Franz Ferdinand.

The French-Chilean director is teethy. A spritely 85 years old, his blindingly white grin is huge. His choppers spread from his mouth like a horse’s smile. His hair flops around as he gesticulates wildly, describing his imaginations and mental illusions. His “r’s” roll off his tongue with the weight of bowling barrels. But those bright pearly whites draw you in.

Jodorowsky’s Dune is about this man’s failed journey to create Dune, a film adaptation of Frank Herbert’s 1965 science fiction novel of the same title. Early on, Jodorowsky tells us, “I never read Dune.” The film is more a face-to-face conversation than it ever is documentary. Jodorowsky and the crew he assembled to make Dune, as well as a clan of historians and filmmakers, sit in front of the camera to recount how Dune was never made. At one point, a cat wanders into the scene. He picks it up and just keeps going.

“What is the goal of life? It’s to create yourself a soul. For me, movies are an art, more than industry. And it’s the search of the human soul, as painting, as literature, as poetry.” Jodorowsky walks us through the history, about half the time in English, the rest in Spanish. He tells us he wanted to create a movie that causes an experience equivalent to that of an LSD trip. In Dune, he wanted to create a prophet.

He pulls a massive book—the size of two phonebooks—from his shelves: Dune is written in big white font on the cover, overlaying a drawing of a zebra-striped purple and yellow spaceship. Contained within this monumental bible are all the scenes, concept art, scripts, storyboards that were never brought to life. Drive’s director, Nicolas Winding Refn, explains how Jodorowsky once showed him the book. “I’m the only guy who ever saw Jodorowsky’s Dune… Let me tell you something. It is awesome.”

Jodorowsky’s goal is to rape our minds, he says, and slowly, he inseminates you. What starts out as a lunatic’s ranting soon becomes an exploration into the soul’s deepest crevasses. Brave director Richard Stanley tells us that Dune’s the greatest movie never made, and we have a hard time believing him. Then, we see Dune.

A design by H.R. Giger for Jodorowsky’s Dune that was incorporated in Alien.

Just as he somehow recruited famous artists Pink Floyd, H.R. Giger, Michel Seydoux, Orson Welles, Salvador Dali (who requested $100,000 a minute), Chris Foss, Jean Giraud, and even forced his own son to do years of martial arts to star in the film, he sucks you into his cosmos. What begins as an impossible dream becomes an insatiable reverie. Jodorowsky becomes the drug, the hallucinogen that pulls you into his world-bending soulscape. He’s Alfonso Cuaron with Jules Verne’s imagination and Hitler’s ambition.

Somehow, he fits all the pieces together, and then everything falls apart. As written, Dune would have been 14 hours, it would have cost millions, and no one wanted to finance it. We weren’t ready. We weren’t equipped. We weren’t worthy.

Hollywood told Alejandro he couldn’t join in the fun. You can’t play with us, Hollywood said. Little did they know, he built the playground. The woodchips and tree scrap they were rolling around on? His design; his team of artists and writers and producers went on to work in the industry, infecting the film world with Alejandro. Movies like Alien, Blade Runner, The Matrix, any sci-fi or blockbuster film, they’ve all been influenced by Jodorowsky’s failed dream.

Jodorowsky—this insane old perverted Spaniard dripping with crazy—pulls the world as we know it apart and then forces it back together with his hands, like an accordionist rending the world with every note. Dune was some sort of calamity, a virtual reality, a rift in time, a temporal split of magnanimous proportions. Jodorowsky broke the universe into two when he set about making his film; we’re just living in the reality where we got Star Wars instead.

So the playground carries on, not with him but within him. Somehow, he became the prophet he set out to make. Shine us with your light Alejandro. How glorious it is!

When Jodorowsky’s Dune ended, it was as if my mind was set free. Not so much as a spiritual or metaphysical awakening, just an awakening to the mind and soul. I couldn’t stop thinking. Jodorowsky had convinced me just like everyone else who clung to this doomed project. His charm, his conviction and passion, somehow it opened my eyes to the world. I began to rethink everything. Maybe that static beat-box had a purpose. Maybe that was Alejandro’s way of communicating to us, of implanting that initial seed, of reaching through space and time. Maybe that was an alternate universe Jodorowsky trying to connect. “Hello? You can hear me?”

Jodorowsky raped my mind. And I loved it. Yeah. Or maybe that’s just the Stockholm Syndrome talking.

A

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