Article: The Dirty South

A favourite podcast of mine that I often have filling my earholes when I am preparing the Sunday roast is the highly informative, often funny podcast Behind the Bastards. Hosted by former Cracked Writer Robert Evans; each episode documents an infamous grifter, villain or dictator from the world’s rogues gallery. A recent episode dealt with the recent phenomenon of Tiger King. If you’ve not got Netflix and have been living under a rock, The Netflix show depicts the beyond the bizarre tale of a polyamorous, gay wild cat owner, whose increasingly insane antics ended up with the aforementioned Joe, banged up in Federal Jail for violating the endangered species act and the attempted murder of another Big Cat owner Carole Baskin. The limited series delves into the outrageous lives of a variety of eccentric characters. Joe’s nonconformist lifestyle is as much of the documentaries focus as his grifting and obsession with Baskin. Everything seems to hold itself in a twisted sense of balance. 

Much has been said about the show and the background of the people for whom it is about. But the thing that really picked my brain about the show came from comedian Billy Wayne Davis who guested on the Behind the Bastards Podcast. With his origins based in a more rural, part of southern American, Davis’ reaction was one of near passivity. To him, he had met so many people like the cast of colourful characters on the show, that while he found the show funny, he was non-plussed by their behaviour. Remarking in a near throwaway comment that folks like Joe Exotic only shock city folk due to the little knowledge they hold of locations that the likes of Joe inhabit. Such criminality is common. Crooked lawmen. Hired hitmen. Dubious means of obtaining sums of cash. And always wrapped up within a lifestyle which goes beyond the fringes. Davis also stated on the podcast; The Daily Zeitgeist, that the likes of Jodie Hill and Danny McBride nailed the rural, southern way of life way before the hit Netflix show in their films The Foot Fist Way (2006) and the sitcom Eastbound and Down (2009). Personally, a part of me thinks that we should have been primed for the likes of Joe Exotic in films such as the 1998 Florida noir, Wild Things.

There is plenty of southern fried features with questionable escapades that could easily make an enjoyable overnight binge along with Tiger King. But for me, it’s Wild Things that sticks out as the crown jewel. True Crime has made a splash in the podcast and streaming world with its lurid elements and forensic details. However, a film like Wild Things was indulging itself in the same type of sociopathic chicanery way before Joe Exotic hit the zeitgeist. There is a clear love of the sensationalised indulgences that true crime shows, and podcasts enjoy playing into. But while a show such as Making a Murderer (2015) still can claim an element of moral justice. Tiger King leans into the outlandish mechanisms that also lie within John McNaughton’s humid cult hit. A backcountry playground removed from a so-called civilised world far to up its backside. Non-conformist sexual behaviour, crooked cohorts and the feeling that everyone not only for personal gain but are also a law into themselves. Likable characters are not what you watch either Tiger King or Wild Things for, but the needling desire to see thorn filled rabbit hole leads for these creatures is a strong pull.

In an article for The Ringer released around Wild Things’ 20th anniversary, bestselling author Shea Serrano recounts the amounts of double-crosses that occur in Wild Things’ 108-minute running. Shea notes the number of deceptive shenanigans with glee, yet it’s not noted at how well the film manages to do this. Wild Things comes out in an era where plot-twists and post-modern monkeyshines are well noted. Let’s not take into account Neve Campbell popping up in Scream (1996) or the question of Who is Keyser Soze. Wild Things still comes out a year before The 6th Sense (1999) a film in which that film's major plot twist leaves the audience shook for years to come. Wild Things has TWELVE double crosses within its running time, with Shea averaging that at a double-cross every 9 minutes. Doing for plot twists what Airplane! (1980) did for sight gags. This is, however, a showcase to how drum-tight the movie’s narrative is and how well-oiled the mechanics play out. John McNaughton (Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer) is not a directorial name that features often in circles of social media, those who know the name, know that he is no slouch. Watching Wild Things again, it is fascinating to watch how characters are blocked in scenes to foreshadow hidden agendas and to keep the audience guessing. The positioning of characters, as well as cutting and story shaping from editor Elena Maganini, are a great example of “the seen unseen”. A character placed behind a gated fence, but only after certain aspects play out first. A coupling of characters suggesting an unfortunate outcome for one, but almost signaling out another character who is running out of view. It’s also worth noting aspects such as casting Theresa Russell as the rich bitch Sandra Van Ryan. Russell who had a notable role in crime drama Black Widow (1987) in which she plays a murderous sociopath who murders for money. The film’s sheer audacity to cast Robert Wagner in a film that obtains mysterious boating incidents as set pieces is a clear note of the film’s gallows humour.

Poor Taste? Of course. But Wild Things is a film that knows what it is playing at. Salacious is the order of the day. Both Tiger King and Wild Things embrace taboo and scandal with loving arms. They ride on the idea of the guilty pleasure. Itching at spots that many would like to claim they do not have. The infamous threesome is a moment with a decent amount of sleazy steaminess yet is sneaky enough with the ages of the female students that no one appears to care that they are sleeping with their former teacher that should know better. However, as the camera gleefully glides slowly over the wet body of Denise Richards midway through the film, you see that the film is playing you like a flute. Roger Ebert in his review of the film asks people to refrain from telling him the film is in bad taste. It is quite clear. It makes no excuses. Ebert also remarks that the film is designed for “connoisseurs of melodramatic comic vulgarity”. How do you feel when you see Richards’ washing a dirty jeep in short shorts? Do you note that she is a school student in the film? Your answers will guide you on whether you would want to watch the film. It may also dictate your feelings towards something like Tiger King. The only difference (thankfully) Wild Things is fiction. 

Listen to the Fatal Attractions Podcast episode of Wild Things here

Review: The Canyons

Year: 2013

Director: Paul Schrader

Screenplay: Bret Easton Ellis

Starring: Lindsey Lohan, James Deen, Gus Van Sant (for some reason)

Synopsis is here:

Dull is not a word that I would use to describe, Paul Schrader, Bret Easton Ellis or Lindsey Lohan and yet The Canyons is a subpar piece that can only be summed up by that word. Ellis’ twitter spats; Lohan’s drug hell or Schrader’s upbringing would bring more interesting tales to our attention. What we have here is an over egged piece of softcore trash gussied up to try and be more interesting that it actually is. Don’t look at me as if I dislike trash. I remember recording Wild Things onto VHS tape. I was around when Sky Movies seemingly had all there shoddy thrillers before Channel 5 moved in. I’d be happy if The Canyons had a shred of the schlocky fun that some of those films had. Unfortunately it’s a turgid mess.

We open to a montage of disused cinemas, possibly alluding to the decline of cinema, perhaps it’s aiming at an ideal even loftier. It doesn’t matter as the film never really brings the point home. If The Caynons was able to transplant its love for architecture on to its characters, we’d have something tangible to grab on to. But what can we say about the people that we follow in this feature? Is there anything that they say or do that is worth our time? Ellis has often written about vapid, cynical people, but they've never been bland.

It’s easy to attack The Canyons for the sake of it, like so many people who do with popular celebrities that they claim to hate. But the film is truly a poorly constructed one, in a year where similarly sordid tales have been release with greater focus. I was not the biggest fan of Harmony Korine’s florescent nightmare; Spring Breakers, yet that film was at least well crafted in its execution of hedonistic emptiness. The Caynons makes even a basic shot reverse shot exchange feel like a chore.

The problem is; one can pick up on the films issues from the get go. With its limit budget, amateur actors and troubled lead actress, you get the feeling that pickups and reshoots would never be the order of the day. Far too often it feels like every shot taken is the first and only one. It certainly feels like the case with James Deen whose Bateman-lite character comes across as completely unthreatening. Deen’s enthusiasm does not match his talent and his graceless display seems to stem from a lack of direction more than anything else.  Compare Deen’s Christian to the disaffected gaze of Sacha Grey in The Girlfriend Experience and there’s a clear gulf in the quality.

But then again we’re dealing with a film in which Schrader, unlike Soderbergh, does little to play to the strengths of everyone involved. The juxtaposition of outrageousness and emptiness that looms over the work of Ellis is never utilised, while the voyeurism that litters Ellis’ works is also badly executed. But The Caynons is not really about that complexity. Its simplistic script is weak when compared to Ellis’ more popular long reads. Frustratingly, there’s nothing in the film that elevates it above its limitations.

You might have noticed I’ve said little about the films main draw, Lindsey Lohan. Mostly because there’s not that much to say. The actress has garnered praise elsewhere, but I found nothing of true interest in the role. Her face; now altered by surgery and caked with make-up captures the burnt out impression which her character needs for the role, but her actual performance gives very little. Much like the rest of the film, Schrader’s lack of control and Ellis’ poor script leave Lohan up the creek without a paddle.