If there were any real doubts that Jackass Number Two was not going to be number one at the box office, those doubts are now, officially, at rest. Almost 30 million dollars for an end of summer R rated movie? That's rare, even though it is already been used as by cineaste and intellectuals as "evidence" of America's awful taste. Of course, by this argument, terrible movies like The Lakehouse would have been unqualified successes, which, of course, they were not. To all the doubters and armchair philosophers, we at the Factual have this to say: Jackass may not be smart (it isn't) but neither are are any of the other films in this weeks top box office draw--and neither are almost all of the movies that were released in the past year. The simple truth is this: there are almost no good American movies being released right now--and the ones that are relatively good are not by American directors at all. 2006 has been a banner year for anyone working on a thesis about commerce replacing art at the cinema house--now that the big studios have constructed cost-protective outlets (Warner Independent, etc.) the ghettoizing of intelligent work will get worse.
Is this to imply that Jackass is smart? No, not at all--if anything, the amount of creativity from Knoxville and his crew of lunatics seems to be stretched a bit thin in their latest outing. But what's intoxicating about the film (beyond the horse semen, feces and Academy Award winning cameos) is that unlike almost any American film this year, Jackass has a palpable sense of urgency, a clear and inspiring message that regardless of harm, these men-boys will not stop or rest on their laurels. Unlike Kevin Spacey in Superman, Johnny Depp in Pirates or any of the other low-rent performances from high-rent actors in big-budget studio jack fests (I'm looking at you, Philip Seymour Hoffman), Jackass Number Two never, not for a second, showcases men doing jobs for the sake of a paycheck. What would have once seemed unthinkable due to both taste limitation and physical danger is now exactly what they will pursue. Even to someone unschooled in the history of this suicidal clique, Jackass Number Two is a rare piece of excitement: a movie laced with determination; a determination born out of the desire to top oneself so insanely that fear and danger are not only expected, but required. When the moment comes where one of the cast members literally begins to cry in fear (if not a first for Jackass, than an incredibly rare occurrence) the sense of surprise in a half-filled theater is as palpable as a punch to the kidneys: "He's crying? And not out of pain? What the fuck?" It isnot just because it seems so out of character--it is because to anyone watching movies this year, it is one of the few times you have seen anyone actually invest anything personal in their work; and considering the work they are involving themselves in, it's the best example of the rest of Hollywood's cowardice. If a man in Jackass can give his all to a silly daredevil stunt or a poop joke, than why can't a 20 million dollar leading man show some guts in MI3?
Jackass is, of course, not for everyone's taste. That doesn't change the simple truth that, like it or not, it's one of the few courageous films of the year--which may be a more damning indictment of those currently reviling it.
Comments
You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.