SLC
Punk!
Rated R
Opens Friday, April 30
SLC Punk! opens with such a desperate
and derivative example of punk rock that one is inclined to
hate the film from the word go. As two young men with "weird"
hair give two other young men with "normal" hair a thrashing,
our narrator begins with a typically anti-heroic declaration:
"The thing about me and Bob and pretty much the rest of us
was that we hated rednecks. The rednecks for us were America
incarnate, and America? Well FUCK AMERICA!" A slow-motion
shot then follows the two punkers running away, until they
are finally held in freeze frame à la Trainspotting
(via GoodFellas via Mean Streets). The shot
ends with another boasting voice-over: "What can I say? We
were just a couple of young punks."
Indeed, what can you say? According to the film's writer/director
James Merendino, you can talk a lot without saying much
at all. In just under two hours, Merendino's characters
jaw about everything and nothing in particular, waxing nostalgic
about their punk-rock golden days in 1985 Salt Lake City,
Utah. Meanwhile, the director tosses in cultural and political
messages about the nature of youth, America and rebellion.
But does this movie say anything we haven't seen or heard
numerous times before? Not especially, and certainly not
for viewers who listened to the Ramones or read The Catcher
in the Rye during their high-school years.
Despite the rehashed quality, Merendino's film is sometimes
successful. Though you're never sure what the director's
trying to say, SLC Punk! often feels like a sweet
John Hughes movie starring punk rockers, peppered with effective
scenes and featuring a great soundtrack. More importantly,
the film is rescued by a talented leading actor, Matthew
Lillard (Scream, She's All That), whose inspired
performance saves the movie from becoming a fingers-on-chalkboard
exercise in edgy nostalgia.
Lillard plays Stevo, a wise and wiseacre rich kid who,
save for his best friend, Heroin Bob (ironically nicknamed
because he hates drugs), is the only authentic punk rocker
in the strictly conservative city of Salt Lake City, Utah.
Now, rebelling in the Reagan era is one thing, but for Stevo,
rebelling in Salt Lake, a city constrained by Mormon rigidity,
is more significant. In his eyes, Mormonism represents a
tweaked form of fascism, and his open defiance means that
he's keeping it real, acting tougher and trying a little
harder than other disgruntled youths in cities more hip
to blue hair. To this recent college graduate, anarchy represents
an almost religious solution to order, and punk rock is
his salvation. Stevo guides us through his life of social
unrest. We not only meet his friends and listen to their
various stories but also experience the various punks, poseurs,
mods and New Wavers who inhabit Stevo's universe like extras
in a Cindy Lauper video.
More interesting is our protagonist's relationship with
his father (Christopher McDonald). An ex-hippie who claims
to have "bought into" the system rather than "sold out,"
he works hard to understand his son's lifestyle, while seeing
his rebelliousness as a common rite of passage. Still, he
pushes Stevo to attend his alma mater, Harvard, and study
law. What Stevo struggles with throughout his year of partying
and discontent is the suspicion that his dad's desires do
have merit. The film's essential question becomes, How do
you remain hardcore and still hope for a better future?
This may sound absolutely ridiculous and may even remind
you of that lame CHiPs episode in which Ponch teaches
the punks how to be more positive. On the big screen, however,
the question manages to achieve a little more resonance.
At times, the film's insight really clicks, mocking the
hypocrisies and reveling in the humor of Stevo's scene.
It helps that many of the picture's supporting characters
have interesting twists to their carefully fashioned personae.
But the success of the film has less to do with Merendino's
fond anarchist memories than with Lillard's insane energy
and charisma. Presenting himself boldly to the viewer, Lillard
essentially is the movie. He makes us like Stevo so much
that we wish that he could direct the movie himself. Merendino's
direction is often clunky, and his overlong script (hardly
punk rock) ends with an oddly disappointing resolution,
but Lillard makes it difficult not to enjoy this movie.
The actor, all rubbery skin and bulging neck veins, is more
unpredictable than the material given to him, and consequently
he delivers the film's message with his own damn charm instead
of the character's. In fact, Lillard's performance matches
Stevo's struggle within his city's strict confines. Like
Stevo, Lillard actually rises above the material and makes
something fun and interesting out of mediocrity.
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Willamette Week | originally
published April 28,
1999
|
