Brandon’s Top Ten Pro Wrestling Documentaries

wrasslin

Between a few friends’ recently renewed enthusiasm for professional wrestling & my own recent introduction to the wrestling-heavy comic book series Love & Rockets, something happened in me last September: I started watching again. I’ve easily watched more pro wrestling in the past four months than I have in the last decade. A young fan during the sport’s famed Attitude Era, I lost my enthusiasm sometime in high school, a loss I now regret. Not keeping up with wrestling over the years meant missing out on large doses of my favorite two elements in popular media: camp & violence.

Approaching the sport as an adult, however, camp & violence weren’t entirely enough. I also craved context, something I never questioned as a teen. In addition to the countless matches I’ve watched in recent months, I’ve also been greedily consuming documentaries on the sport. The following list is the most helpful films I’ve found in my search for context. Together, they combine to explain to outsiders just what makes wrestling so fascinating & how it evolved to become the violent, campy spectacle it is today.

1. Beyond the Mat (1999) – Widely considered the Citizen Kane of the genre, Beyond the Mat is more of a love letter to the sport than an objective documentary. The 90s vibe is potent here. Vince McMahon is drunk on the power the Attitude Era has afforded him (a level of power he hadn’t tasted since the 80s). The close friendship detailed between hardcore legends Mick Foley & Terry Funk is movingly sincere. The devastating Jake “The Snake” Roberts scenes could conceivably have been research material for Aronofsky’s masterful film The Wrestler (right down to the troubled relationship with his daughter). The narrator’s urge to explain the basic appeal of a sport he loves, a sport that to many people “isn’t real” feels antiquated, but it’s more than forgivable given the time of production. If you’re looking for a beginner’s guide to appreciating pro wrestling as entertainment, this movie is a great place to start. If you already have any affection for the sport you will still love every minute of it, even when it makes you feel like shit.

2. Hitman Hart: Wrestling With Shadows (1998) – While Beyond the Mat documents the state of pro wrestling at the height of the Attitude Era, Wrestling With Shadows does a fine job of defining exactly what made that specific era so distinct. Wrestling icon Bret Hart struggles within the film to reconcile his own 80s-minded ideals of what the sport should be (especially in how it’s viewed by children) with the extreme late-90s direction it was going. There’s also some essential insight into Bret’s father, Stu Hart’s “The Dungeon” training room and the infamous Montreal Screwjob incident involving Bret. Both topics are interesting in how much the camera reveals as well as what it withholds. Is there more to the story than what we’re told? Hard to tell, but it’s still very informative even when mysterious. Unfortunately, Wrestling With Shadows also boasts the worst soundtrack I’ve ever, ever encountered in a documentary (a depressingly common problem with the genre). It’s a truly laughable distraction in an otherwise entertaining movie.

3. I’m From Hollywood (1989) – Andy Kaufman’s posthumous “documentary” (more of a mockumentary, really) about his wrestling career is unambiguously an angle, a continuation of an in-ring storyline. In the 80’s Kaufman fashioned himself an infamously effective heel by proclaiming himself the Inter-gender Wrestling Champion and challenging women in the audience to step up as his opponents. This escalated to a very public feud with wrestler Jerry “The King” Lawler that both men sold beautifully. It’s both amazing & unsurprising how well pro wrestling fit into Kaufman’s fucking-with-your-reality style of comedy. In its finest moments I’m From Hollywood is a document of how the demented, proto-Tim Heidecker genius Kaufman utilized the sport as a form of high art. It works best when interviewees like Jerry Lawler & the late Robin Williams are committed to the joke, as opposed to folks like Tony Danza who refuse to play along.

4. GLOW: The Story of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling (2012) – A few of the docs on this list play into the self-aggrandizing of wrestling promos that make their subjects sound like The Best Thing Ever. The GLOW documentary excels at this showy brand of self-promotion that’s so inherent to the sport; it really does make GLOW look & sound way better than it could have conceivably been. This makes sense, considering the 80s wrestling company/television show it documents (“the only all-female wrestling show there’s ever been”) was firmly invested in the entertainment end of “sports entertainment”. The Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling could wrestle, no doubt, but they mostly started as amateurs (hopeful actresses & models) roped into the business in boy-band levels of commercial-minded schemes & manipulation. The story of GLOW is the story of a brief, unlikely cultural phenomenon fueled by 80s glam, over-the-top camp, novelty rapping, and genuine beasts & bad-asses. All of this precious material is backed up by a wealth of televised footage to support the interviews & the best soundtrack of any film on this list (provided by outsider post-punk geniuses ESG).

5. Barbed Wire City: The Unauthorized Story of ECW (2013) – It’s difficult to find a truthful, comprehensive look into the legendary Extreme Championship Wrestling promotion among the various failed attempts. Barbed Wire City is a godsend of a corrective to that problem. Easily the best take on the subject to date, it features interviews from both world-class shit-talker (and morally-questionable businessman) Paul Hayman and the very people he built up & arguably screwed over. Barbed Wire City also postures ECW as the wrestling equivalent of the Roger Corman Film School, where talents would develop ideas & characters in a gritty environment before moving onto the big leagues (to the organization’s demise). It distinguishes itself from other docs in the genre by featuring interviews with old-school ECW fans (including a dorked-out Billy Corgan) who helped make organization special just as much as the performers did. Its actually-listenable post-rock soundtrack also assists in making it a godsend among its peers.

6. The Unreal Story of Professional Wrestling (1999) – A (mildly-condescending) history of old-school “wrasslin”, The Unreal Story explains how pro wrestling adapted from traveling circus to television mainstay. Although Steve Allen’s snarky narration in this TV doc prevents it from achieving the heartfelt love-letter status of Beyond the Mat, it does a great job of giving the evolution of the sport a historical context. My favorite outlandish claim from The Unreal Story is that Egyptian hieroglyphics depicting wrestling came with ancient promos that included insults threatening to make opponents “bleed before the Pharaoh” . . . brother. Not only is this history lesson informative (especially in its profiles of old greats like Gorgeous George & Ricki Starr), but it also offers a strange perspective of a time when 90s media did not know how to handle the Attitude Era’s sudden surge in popularity except to look backwards.

7. Lipstick & Dynamite, Piss & Vinegar: The First Ladies of Wrestling (2004) – A fascinating profile of the pioneer crop of 1950’s women wrestlers, it’s mostly comprised of modern interviews fleshed out with brief clips of televised matches, photographs, stock footage & era-defining television clips from game & variety shows. I’ve seen a few lackluster wrestling documentaries that are put together this way, but Lipstick avoids mediocrity by giving a mic to women who rarely get to speak at length & covering a subject that rarely gets its due time in the spotlight. It also serves as an interesting account of how pro wrestling evolved from the traveling carnival circuit to television, making it a sort of companion piece to The Unreal Story. At the very least, it’s like spending 90min kicking back a six-pack with the world’s coolest, most foul-mouthed old biddies.

8. Scott Hall: The Wrestler (2011) – A 20min ESPN short recommended for those who aren’t depressed enough by Jake “The Snake” Roberts’ story arc in Beyond the Mat. Documenting “Razor Ramon”/Scott Hall’s struggles with substance abuse, his own role as an absent father and the damage pro wrestling has inflicted on his body & his mind, the intimacy of this movie will destroy you. For folks seeking fame & recognition within pro wrestling, this doc should serve as a reminder to take care of themselves in the process.

9. MTV’s True Life: I’m A Pro Wrestler (1999) – This trifle boasts some valuable locker-room footage from the Attitude Era that serves as a strange time capsule of both a period when wrestling was a white-hot commodity and when performers Chyna & HHH were white-hot romantically. Most importantly, though, there’s some essential insight into the toll the training process can take on a fresh body as well as the dedication it takes to survive that toll. The short-form doc is a tryptic depicting life before, during, and after pro wrestling fame, a surprisingly balanced & thoughtful approach, considering it’s an MTV production.

10. Pinfall (2011) – An even more focused look at the pro wrestling training process than the True Life episode mentioned above, this small-scale short follows British wrestling fan & amateur filmmaker Adam Pacitti as he attempts to train for a wrestling match in just one month’s time. Pacitti initially enters the process with the wrong mentality & wrong physicality (especially in regards to his belief that he could properly train within a month) and is relentlessly punished for his naivety. In its most valuable contributions to the genre, the film offers both a unique look at the exact training patterns new wrestlers must follow as well as the disconnect between the hubris of what a fan believes they can accomplish in the ring & the harsh realities of a sport outsiders don’t believe to be “real” at all.

-Brandon Ledet

Scooby-Doo (2002)

scooby-doo

three star

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The idea of a live-action Scooby-Doo movie was unappealing enough to put me off for over a decade. There was just no way I could imagine the product as anything but hokey & outdated. The truth wasn’t that far off. The jokes in the 2002 Scooby-Doo were cheap & hokey, but no more cheap & hokey than its Hanna-Barbera source material. Adding an air of sophistication to a cartoon about a half-talking dog who solves mysteries with his stoner owner/bro would surely be a misstep. No, to do it right, you’d have to include some stunt cameos (including a bizarrely intimate moment with the band Sugar Ray), some “you meddling kids” call-backs and, of course, a multiple-scene fart gag. Something for the parents, something for the kids.

It was the curious detail of James Gunn’s screenplay credit that eventually brought me around on the idea. How could the twisted mind behind Slither and Tromeo & Juliet be responsible for a franchise so seemingly innocuous? The answer, obviously, is that Scooby-Doo actually has some sharp teeth hidden in its smiling jowls. Among the Sugar Rays & fart gags, Gunn worked in some subversive humor about things like Fred’s masculine vanity, murderous monsters, gender swapping, and Shaggy’s love of Mary Jane (a character whose name is winked at you too hard to ignore even if you wanted to). It’s not like this line of writer’s room mischief (including the drug culture references) wasn’t present in the hippie-era Scooby cartoons. It was there. Gunn just has a clever way of updating that rebellious spirit with just enough snark & meta-commentary to make it feel modern without undermining his screenplay’s reverence for the source material. It’s that balance of perverse pranks & childlike exuberance that Gunn brought to last year’s Guardians of the Galaxy, as opposed to the unbridled sadism he infused in projects like Super & 2004’s Dawn of the Dead remake. Scooby-Doo is far from James Gunn’s most personal work, but it’s easy to find his personality in it.

The only crippling flaw I can find in this (mercifully short) trifle is the shoddy CGI on the monsters & Scooby himself, which seems like an important detail to nail. Otherwise, it exceeded most expectations, especially in the 90s/00s flashback cast. Sarah Michelle Gellar, Freddy Prinze Jr, Linda Cardenelli, and Matthew Lillard were kinda perfect as the Mystery Inc. crew. Lillard’s Shaggy was so perfect, in fact, that he still provides the voice for the character’s current animated incarnation. Unfortunately, bringing back the same cast (with welcome additions Peter Boyle & Alicia Silverstone) and James Gunn’s pen for 2004’s Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed failed to overcome the sequel law of diminishing returns. Monsters Unleashed boasts the same brand of hokey fun as its predecessor, but with the sharp teeth & personality removed. It’s the bland paycheck project I expected when I read James Gunn’s screenplay credit on the original. Instead I was treated to some great, dumb, mischievous fun. I shouldn’t have waited twelve years for that treat.

-Brandon Ledet

Brandon’s Top Films of 2014

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1. Interstellar – The volume & variety of complaints surrounding this wonderful film has got to be the most hilarious joke of 2014. The score was beautiful, the recorded messages scene was a soul crusher, and the goofy back end felt like trashy, old-school sci-fi serials in the best way.

2. Snowpiercer – Deliciously excessive, hilariously absurd, cartoonishly violent. The half-baked political philosophy is mostly inconsequential, placing the movie in a long line of vague haves-vs-have-nots dystopian sci-fi whose world-building is entirely purposed for a badassery delivery system. It delivers. Just don’t take it too seriously.

3. The Guest – A John Carpenter throwback where the villain’s mask is a handsome smile. It’s packed with enough humor, cruelty, synths, blood, smoke machines & genre-bending to entertain/seduce/corrupt the whole family.

4. Wetlands – Most likely the cutest movie about an anal fissure you’ll ever see. It was a good year for weird rom-coms and this one gets huge bonus points for managing to stick to the format while plunging into de Sade levels of depravity.

5. Under The Skin – Haunting. Sparse yet loaded with unforgettable images & sounds. Glazer is a genius.

6. The Grand Budapest Hotel – Wes Anderson seems to be testing just how much Wes Anderson people can take with his last couple of features. I can take a lot, especially with performances as hilarious as Ralph Fiennes is here.

7. We Are The Best! – Those kids are the best.

8. The Babadook – Approaching this horror flick as a traditional creature feature is a huge mistake. The real threat is psychological and way more disturbing for it.

9. Blue Ruin – A realistic thriller that hits familiar beats carved out by people like Jeff Nichols & The Coen Bros without feeling at all redundant.

10. The Strange Color of Your Body’s Tears – The kaleidoscopic imagery & sound design are as intense as anything you’d expect from a Lynch, Jodorowsky, Argento, Glazer or Carruth. It was like if Under The Skin didn’t let every striking image bleed out, but instead threw a new one at you every few seconds.

HM. The One I Love, Frank, Obvious Child, Venus In Fir, Life After Beth – All five of these titles turned the most delicate of premises that could have turned into cutesy, winking indie trifles into refreshingly earnest/honest discourse. They’re all really good & totally worthwhile even if they aren’t The Best Thing EVER.

-Brandon Ledet

Triangle (2009)

triangle fourstar

A horror film about geometry’s deadliest shape. Beware of its sharp points! Just kidding. Triangle’s title is as misleading as anything else in the film. Reasonably, an audience would assume that a horror film titled Triangle that features a shipwrecked yacht would be about The Bermuda Triangle phenomenon. When the destroyed yacht’s former passengers board a mysterious ocean liner and are hunted down by a masked killer, the natural assumption would be that the crazed killer is a ghost and the ocean liner too was sunk by The Bermuda Triangle’s bloodthirsty, time-warping ways. Wrong. Triangle is merely the name of the doomed yacht and, unlike the yacht, the movie refuses to be pinned down so easily.

Part of Triangle’s fun is figuring out just where the plot is going. Your initial viewing will most likely be filled with nagging questions of just “What. Is. Happening. Here?” Familiar explanations of time-travel, ghosts, and the whole ordeal merely being a nightmare will all creep up. They will also prove false as the movie escalates from a slasher flick to a psychological horror to, most terrifying of all, a philosophical one. A lesser movie would never leave the haunted ocean liner and blame the movie’s supernatural plot on the aforementioned Bermuda Triangle, but it’s what happens after the ocean liner nightmare that makes it distinct.

After leaving the ocean liner, we return to the beginning. To the dialogue of the opening credits. Triangle is a cyclical film that relies on repetition you’d expect more from a poem or a song. It is certainly a genre film, not an Upstream Color, but its aims are nearly as psychedelic. Its protagonist, Jess, is tormented just as much by a murderous psychopath as she is by guilt and déjà vu. Her fellow victims make these themes explicit by asking her questions like “Is it guilt? Do you feel guilty?” and “Don’t you see this is all just in your head?” Jess stares blankly, dazed, and though it feels like she knows more than the audience & her fellow passengers, she follows the plot like she has no choice. She is destined to go down this cyclical path like a needle following the groove of a broken record. This too is made explicit when Jess discovers a phonograph playing a broken record.

Triangle is a screenwriter’s film. Its themes are laid bare. Its characters leave the actors little nuance to work with, serving mostly as basic archetypes. There’s a humor to these archetypes’ simplicity, with the most hilarious examples being a two-way tie between the hot, dumb runaway teen stud deck boy and the rich & snooty WASP. Unlike with typical horror films, this artificiality is intentional, raising the question “Do these people even exist?” That unnaturalness is emphasized by multiple scenes set in the ocean liner’s on-board theater. Again, the writing leans more toward the explicit than the subtle, something that serves the horror genre well. Although it boasts a convoluted, supernatural plot that could easily be left open-ended and up for interpretation, the movie bends over backwards to answer all questions satisfactorily. There are multiple long-form YouTube videos “explaining” the story, but they’re all ultimately unnecessary. Triangle has its own set logic & rules, all explained within the film.

You can tell writer/director Christopher Smith had fun constructing this narrative. He enhances slasher film tropes by providing his masked murderer long-term goals, a reason for killing beyond petty revenge or morality. Its looping, cyclical story structure has its own supernatural reasoning & purpose. Because of its cyclical nature the film benefits from multiple viewings. The dialogue in the opening domestic scene becomes more significant over time, changes meaning. There’s a reason characters reference the myth of Sisyphus more than once. There’s a reason the story doesn’t end with Jess surviving the Hell of the ocean liner killings, but instead trudges on. Triangle’s Hell is constantly repeating, yet only temporary. Watching the movie is a puzzling, frightening and at times goofy experience you may find yourself compelled to relive, like a needle following the groove of a broken record.

-Brandon Ledet

Gentlemen Broncos (2009)

Gentlemen Broncos

fourstar

Like most movies championed as cult classics, Gentlemen Broncos never stood a chance. Upon an initial onslaught of abysmal reviews, the movie was yanked from its national theatrical release and cast to the damned life of a straight-to-DVD comedy. Unfortunately, it probably will never have its chance as a cult classic either. To help spread its name, I’ve purchased the DVD every time I’ve seen it for less than $5, more often than you’d expect. What I’ve discovered is that comedies are hard to defend. A joke doesn’t improve upon explanation. In particular, the movie’s gross-out gags require a physical reaction to work. For instance, when a pet snake releases diarrhea on an unflinching guardian angel, you either laugh or you don’t. I’ve played this movie for many friends in the past five years and their reactions to that scene understandably vary. Instead of defending the movie’s baser elements, though, I’d like to praise its more artistic ambitions. Gentlemen Broncos is the coming-of-age story of a young artist struggling with the loss of his father, the compromise of art vs. commerce, and his hormonal teen desires. Even more so, it’s about how an artist’s (especially a writer’s) vision can be tainted once it is purchased. Gentlemen Broncos is a movie about movies, art about art. If that sounds lofty for a Jerusha & Jared Hess film, it’s because it’s their most personal & ambitious work to date. Their first two films, Napoleon Dynamite & Nacho Libre may share some stylistic characteristics with Gentlemen Broncos, but they also suffer from a distinct personal detachment and lack of ambition that make them inferior by comparison.

Approximating the visual and comedic style of the Hess duo, I’d say they’re combining the meticulous fussiness of Wes Anderson with the juvenile depravity of the Farrelly Brothers. If when you were watching The Grand Budapest Hotel you didn’t pause and wish it were more like Movie 43, you’re not alone. Rationally, the two styles shouldn’t co-exist. Movie 43 actually shouldn’t exist at all, but that’s another matter. What this unlikely stylistic mash-up accomplishes in Gentlemen Broncos, though, is a more accurate depiction of childhood than Wes Anderson’s nostalgia-driven films brilliantly achieve in the abstract. Moonrise Kingdom & Rushmore make me wistful about boyhood, but doesn’t the picture seem incomplete without fart jokes and vomit? Gentlemen Broncos depicts a complete childhood, farts and all. While there are no farts proper depicted on screen, we’re instead treated to a testicle-eating bobcat, a puke-filled kiss, poisonous poo darts, yeast jokes, the aforementioned diarrheal snake and, perhaps worst of all, actor Hector Jimenez’s awful mouth. It would be a fool’s errand to contend that Gentlemen Broncos is a better coming-of-age film about a precocious teen artist than Rushmore, but the Farrelly Brothers brand of juvenile bathroom humor does help round out a more honest depiction in some ways. Either that, or I was just an exceptionally disgusting child.

What Gentlemen Broncos does successfully mimic from Wes Anderson’s aesthetic is the dollhouse-like, controlling obsessiveness of a child’s imagination. The story’s protagonist, Benjamin, is an aspiring science fiction writer, a true nerd. Not only does he organize the novels he’s written in self-decorated binders (stored neatly in a box under his bed, of course) but he also builds doll-scale sets for his favorite scenes. He designs and wears merchandise celebrating his own work. When he’s bummed at a pivotal point in the film, he sits at the edge of his bed reading his most recent triumph, a novel titled Yeast Lords, to himself as a means of exhibiting control. The main conflict of Gentlemen Broncos is how uneasy Benjamin becomes as he loses control over his work. The escapism he’s created for himself in Yeast Lords is compromised in two bastardized versions of his vision, a world he has distinctly established in his own mind. Twisting the knife, the bastardized versions of Yeast Lords are perpetrated upon Benjamin by his only friends and his biggest hero.

Benjamin’s hero is Dr. Ronald Chevalier, a prolific science fiction writer who, unbeknownst to Benjamin, produced his portfolio of pulp novels for the cash, not for the love of art. He betrays Benjamin by plagiarizing Yeast Lords and, worst yet, completely undermines the original vision by changing the names and stripping the main character of his hyper-masculinity. In Chevalier’s version, Brutus & Balzaak, the novel’s hero is a screaming queen Edgar Winter, played on the screen with expert flippancy by Sam Rockwell. Rockwell also plays the hyper-masculine version of the character, Bronco, in the original Yeast Lords. Bronco is an action-hero archetype meant to pay tribute to Benjamin’s dead father. Before he even discovers Chevalier’s betrayal, Benjamin is confronted with another watered-down version of his work. Having sold the rights to Yeast Lords to his two amateur filmmaker friends for a $500 postdated check, Benjamin becomes livid as minor changes are made to his dialogue and the image in his head doesn’t match the small-scale home movie shenanigans his friends are filming. When questioned as to why he wrote Yeast Lords in the first place, Benjamin confesses “I wanted to write a story for my dad. He died when I was young.” It’s easy to see why the integrity of Yeast Lords being compromised would break his heart. Benjamin foolishly asks Chevalier himself for advice regarding his loss of control over the Yeast Lords movie. He confesses, “The idea of someone bastardizing my work really freaks me out.” Chevalier responds, “Cash the check and enjoy the money.” His assertion that writers create for money, as means to make a living, may ring true with adults (especially with adults who write pulp novels for a living) , but it’s a crushing blow for an idealistic teenager. In that moment Benjamin receives an essential life lesson: never meet your idols. This goes doubly true if your idol serves as a replacement father figure.

Although Benjamin loses control of Yeast Lords to inferior imitations, Gentlemen Broncos expertly maintains control of all three versions. Benjamin, Chevalier, and amateur-director Lonnie all are afforded screen-time for their unique visions of the story, which run simultaneously with the main plot. This episodic storytelling recalls the structure of radio serials, comic books, or the old line of sci-fi novels published across multiple magazine issues. Instead of showing different versions of the same scenes, the Yeast Lords story is told from front to end through different lenses. The three versions are still available for comparison, but they resist becoming redundant and instead tell the sci-fi story as a scattered whole. The three versions only start to converge and become chaotic as Gentlemen Broncos’ main conflict comes to a head.

There is some real love for the genre in these scenes. The version of Yeast Lords that plays in Benjamin’s mind is the kind of sci-fi action epic that any dedicated fan of schlock would love to see actualized. Chevalier’s version is a much campier take and feels like an unusually flamboyant episode of the original Star Trek series. Lonnie’s version is thoroughly inept in every way, but exhibits a real love for filmmaking His backyard movies both call to mind the television series Home Movies (he’s made 83 films, “mostly trailers”) and the type of 8mm films directors like Steven Spielberg made in their youth, as described in the minor documentary Sci-Fi Boys. Yes, Lonnie’s films are terrible, but he feels compelled to make them and the quality isn’t that far below real life direct-to-VHS disasters like Redneck Zombies. This range of representations displays a real love and understanding of sci-fi schlock. Even though Chevalier’s camped up version is a blow to Benjamin’s artistic pride, it’s a joy for the audience and provides some of the movie’s funniest moments (Sam Rockwell just devours the scenery in that Edgar Winter getup). Lonnie’s movies are terrible but it’s hard not to share in Benjamin’s love interest, Tabatha’s enthusiasm when she gushes “This is going to be one of those movies that’s actually way better than the novel.”

This genuine love of trashy science fiction is evident as early as the opening credits, as is its love of the Wes Anderson aesthetic, Playing against Zager and the Evans’ novelty hit “In the Year 2525” the credits are worked into neatly arranged pulp sci-fi covers. Although certainly over the top, the artwork on these fake novels isn’t too far from reality. Instead of poking fun at the genre, it plays more like a celebration. I’d totally read any one of those books, and if I were still a teenage nerd they would be all I was reading. This love fest continues as a common thread throughout the film. The three combating versions of Yeast Lords are much sillier and parodistic than the opening credits, but they also have a true appreciation for trashy sci-fi as a subject. Gentlemen Broncos follows a long tradition of movies about movies, but it sharpens its view a little by narrowing in on a specific genre.

Of course, a loving tribute to trashy science fiction is only half the story. The movie also depicts the lives of the teenage nerds obsessed with it. The awkward anti-comedy that’s common to any young nerd’s social skills is laid on thick and early. The teen writer’s camp and multiple Dr. Chevalier book signings are particularly awkward. Even the camp counselors and Chevalier himself seem stuck in an embarrassing suspended adolescence, all exhibiting the social grace of a Tim & Eric episode. Teen nerds everywhere (and the adults they became) should be able to identify with the frustration of being overly-enthusiastic with garbage media no one else seems to care about. The counselors & Chevalier will make adult nerds question just how much of that enthusiasm sticks with you as the years go on and making money becomes necessary. Even though Chevalier claims he is writing purely for profit, you can easily detect the glee in his voice when nerds start nitpicking details in his novels. He geeks out with them and supplies readied answers. In addition to science fiction, these hormonal nerds are also sexually enthusiastic. Benjamin’s love interest, Tabatha, writes thinly veiled erotic fiction about horses & stable boys, sneaks into male dorms, and enjoys moist hand massages with her eyes firmly rolled in the back of her head. Benjamin writes lines like “Take me to your yeast factory” in his own work. Yeast Lords is a testicle-obsessed boy-gets-the-girl story way more forward and self-assured than its creator is in real life. It’s no surprise that Tabatha is the romantic instigator in the pair, since Benjamin is an unsure, passive coward off the page.

Having such a quiet, unassuming protagonist is a blessing in a comedy so dominated by over-the-top performances. Jennifer Coolidge is as ridiculous and loveable as always as Benjamin’s mother. The subplot in which she tries to launch a fashion line of homemade nightgowns not only mimics Benjamin’s own artistic struggle, but also provides such brilliant clothing designs as “Reachable Dream” and “Decent Beginnings.” Also never less than magnificent, Jermaine Clement absolutely kills it as Dr Chevalier. His one minute lecture about cyborg harpies art at the writing camp is one of the most perfect comedic performances I can think of in any film, and it’s quickly followed by a brilliant second lecture about how adding “-anous” or “-ainous” as a suffix on protagonists’ names instantly improves your writing. His performance alone elevates the material to cult-level significance. Sam Rockwell rounds out the film as the third scene-stealer, lisping and grunting his way through two polar opposite versions of the same character, Bronco & Brutus. There’s a reason Benjamin is so quiet and these three heavyweights never interact. The movie needed an unassuming straight man to anchor it down.

Benjamin is the bland everyman of awkward childhoods. Living in Utah, seemingly without an internet connection, he has been culturally left behind. Even his music is outdated. The movie’s soundtrack is mostly 80’s monster ballads, which is a stark contrast with Chevalier’s ever-present Bluetooth. The setting is oddly nostalgic, which along with the film’s gushing love of science fiction and its interest in socially awkward teens, affords the film its air of being a deeply personal work. To borrow a line from Sam Rockwell’s lisping Brutus, it’s as if Jerusha & Jared Hess put a “buttload of keepsakes” in a time capsule. It’s hard not to get swept up in the righteousness of Benjamin’s inevitable victory over Chevalier and Bronco’s victory over the yeast factories, because the movie’s heart really does outweigh any ironic detachment the audience can detect in the snake shit or in Hector Jimenez’s awful, awful mouth. I doubt the Hess duo has found any such satisfaction in their most recent work, an already-cancelled animated version of Napoleon Dynamite. I can only hope their ambitions & personal investment didn’t die with Gentlemen Broncos’ theatrical failure. It really pays off when you can tell they care.

-Brandon Ledet