Film Review: Kaboom
I must confess I don’t know all of Gregg Araki’s work, but was blown away by his adaptation of Scott Heim’s ‘Mysterious Skin’. ‘Kaboom’ appears more of a return to his cult roots, and what a return it is. Drug addled realities, huge amounts of sex between extremely hot actors and preposterous conspiracy theories. What more could you ask for, particularly with a lead actor as hot as Thomas Dekker (I may return to this)? Nothing as far as I’m concerned – this is a definitive gay cult film for the early 21st century.
Dekker (‘Heroes’/'Sarah Connor Chronicles’) plays Smith, an 18 year old gay student who refuses to self-define as such, but gets around. He lusts after his impossibly beautiful surfer roommate Thor (Chris Zykla), gossips with his sarcastic lesbian best friend Stella (Haley Bennett) and shags much of what moves – men, women, it’s all the same to him at the end of the day. One night he eats a drug laced cookie at a party and sleeps with the redoubtable London (Juno Temple); he also appears to see the violent murder of the Red Haired Girl. Or does he? Who are the animal masked men?
With this film Araki has a lot to say about the current generation (although he’s also admitted ‘Kaboom’ is a semi-biographical work as well). Smith has sex with the outrageously well-built & hot Hunter (Jason Olive) whilst on a nudist beach, is pursued by the cute Oliver (Brennan Mejia) and is desired by pretty much everyone; he’s equanimous about whom he beds as long as they’re cool. He studies film for no clear reason at all, but loves his indie music (a personal obsession of Araki’s) and only finds a hint of true intimacy with London. The writer/director has even more of a snipe at lesbian culture, suggesting (or does he?) Stella’s one conquest is an actual witch, and he peppers his highly sexualised teen drama with these odd contradictions. Smith’s obsession with the Red Haired Girl walks the film uncomfortably through this murky world, albeit without much purpose until the film’s final act.
Of course Araki peppers the film with his other personal obsessions – what is the cult of the animal masked men and what do they want? Why does Smith keep appearing to be able to see elements of his future? What starts out as a teen drama veers towards a vicious, self-satirising black comedy with bitingly incisive wit. Stella attacks public figures like Clay Aiken, Mel Gibson, Lady Gaga, and gay people in general, with even Smith acknowledging ‘strange seems to be the new normal’. Araki wraps his characters in a 90210-esque pastel coloured world, but it becomes increasingly paranoid – Smith and Oliver never get it on, Smith gets attacked and robbed in his dorm room by an assailant who might just be imaginary, and asks too late if Hunter has safer sex, whilst continually being pursued by the animal masked men just out of the edge of his consciousness. Araki has no shame in suddenly changing perspective, and when he breaks out fully into black comedy the film takes on an entirely different and in many ways deeper significance: are all these relationships for naught?
As the writer/director points out earlier in the film, film studies student Smith may be completely wasting his time in education by studying an art form which has a limited shelf life, and Araki hints very strongly that there’s no point to anything. It’s quite an achievement to wrap nihilism in light hearted sexuality, which keeps it very light, enjoyable and entertaining from the outset. It may become very Twin Peaks-esque but it’s also very funny – the Red Haired Girl changes persona and identity more than once as the film races through its various acts, but never once does Araki lose hold of your sympathy for some terrifically drawn characters (Dekker’s Smith in particular). Cult films may or may not be your thing, but when the film starts with a full frontal nude shot of an outrageously beautiful young man, how can you go wrong? Run, don’t walk I say. I will again when it eventually hits British cinemas.
9.5/10
Film Review: Greenberg (Spoilers)
It’s a quirky old film is Greenberg. And its quirkiness is both its success and failing – the film neatly refuses to fit into any particular genre – is it a man/dog buddy movie? Is it a character study? A diatribe about the failings of current society for the current 40′s generation? The answer is never clear. This defiance also makes it hard to emotionally invest in – without a clear beginning, middle and certainly no end, what is the point in watching Greenberg? Well considering nothing ends up really happening to him by the story’s end, you could easily say there is none, but my answer is this: Ben Stiller. It’s something which quite shocked me – I’ve strongly disliked Ben Stiller and hated his performances for years, but his intensely unlikeable Roger Greenberg is a character I found myself fascinated by and one I warmed to despite myself.
Screenwriter-director Noah Baumbach and Jennifer Jason Leigh’s Greenberg is a 41 year old man consumed by the errors of his past and the irritations of the modern world. Recently released from a mental hospital, Greenberg housesits for his brother and family. He forges an awkward relationship with their au pair Greta Gerwig and pursues his strained friendship with former bandmate Rhys Ifans, all the while writing letters of complaint to people or institutions which don’t meet his expectations. There’s little else to the film than an investigation of these relationships – his old friends no longer want to know him since he refused a lucrative recording contract when they were young, ex-girlfriend Leigh doesn’t want to know him because of his abusive behaviour, and Ifans perseveres even though Greenberg is so self-obsessed he hasn’t even met his child. But Gerwig falls for him regardless, even when he pushes her away, consumed by self-hatred and an unwillingness to be loved. This element is a fascinating look at how others can see in us qualities which we ourselves cannot, and how we can tear ourselves apart regardless.
There’s no ending – Greenberg has things happen to him, but even by the ending it’s unclear if he’s ever going to embrace the lessons which are there in front of his face. And this is the one big frustration of the film – it’s largely Greenberg’s (or is it Baumbach’s?) stream of consciousness, with some poignant moments and superb acting, but not much else. Some people will love it, others will hate it (Stiller is determinedly unlikeable from beginning to end) – this is not a happily-ever-after film. It does however have something to say about the human condition though – Greenberg is able effortlessly to take care of his brother’s dog when he can’t take care adequately of himself, Ifans of all people realises settling down isn’t the conformist nightmare he’d feared when confronted by Stiller, and Gerwig manages to makes a stab at happiness without even bothering with these existential issues. In fact there’s far too little Gerwig.
Ultimately it’s a sad film, which, like The Road before it, is a depressing experience, but it also shares that film’s knockout performances and honest indie craftsmanship. The story could never really be neatly wrapped up after all, and by that point Baumbach has unquestionably said all he needs to say about being about being a forty-something man in the 21st century. It would still have been nice to have had a clear beginning, middle and end though.
7/10
