Skip to main content

The Criterion Channel Presents: Nowhere (1997)

Gregg Araki’s Nowhere has a cast of dozens and not one of them isn’t in some way queer or queer-coded. Following up on his token “Heterosexual Movie” The Doom Generation, perhaps this was the fair exchange for one of the New Queer Cinema movement’s most prominent directors. It is a thematic follow-up to The Doom Generation, as well as Araki’s 1993 Totally Fucked Up -which together formed his “Teenage Apocalypse trilogy” (though his later film Kaboom could probably be grouped in with them as well). It is also perhaps one of the most 90s movies ever made, its fashions, music, indie punk aesthetics, and filmmaking techniques pretty much definitive of that era and that era only. The film as a whole is like a queer Dazed and Confused with touches of Reality Bites and Trainspotting -all of which I’m sure influenced Araki that he then coloured with his own brand of surreal camp madness. There are aliens in this film, and a trio of minor characters referred to as the Scary Drag Queens, and a whole lot of California Gen-X stereotypes that nonetheless have a twinge of resonating humanity to them.
Chief among them is Dark (and few of the characters are referred to by real names), played by James Duval, who had starred in both of Araki’s prior films. Dark is a surfer dude type in an open relationship with Rachel True’s Mel that he yearns to make exclusive. Both are bisexual, but Mel is the more sexually adventurous of the pair. And they interact with a whole host of other young characters in Los Angeles eagerly anticipating a party thrown by some guy called “Jujyfruit” -later revealed to be played by Gibby Haynes of Butthole Surfers, one of several bizarre cameos in the movie.
Of course there are cameos and there are actors on the cusp of breaking through, and part of the fun of watching Nowhere is seeing how many future notable stars Araki managed to pluck for the variety of weird characters in this movie. There is a voracious couple into kinky sex played by Ryan Phillippe and Heather Graham. Christina Applegate is an awkward girl lusting after her friend’s brother played by Scott Caan. And Mena Suvari plays the teenage girlfriend of Mel’s little brother. Alongside these are more established performers in supporting or cameo roles, such as Traci Lords, Shannon Doherty, and Doom Generation breakout star Rose McGowan as mindless valley girls, Beverly D’Angelo as Dark’s mom, Denise Richards as a beach model, and John Ritter as a televangelist -not to mention Baywatch star Jaason Simmons as an extremely unflattering version of himself. All these characters moving in and out of interconnected narratives and most converging on the party, it really does have that feel of Dazed and Confused, even in that each character feels relatively defined, only it is way more high-octane, absurd, provocative, and dark.
Yet Araki makes it work, the linking of sometimes severe subject matter with broad and surreal aesthetics via a deftly communicated overhanging air of desire and longing for understanding -in that explicitly Nirvana-infused Gen-X alienation kind of way. Dark appears to be his closest analogue, craving something pure and meaningful with Mel, while she is content with things the way they are -splitting her time between him and her part-time girlfriend Lucifer (Kathleen Robertson). Beyond just that romantic and sexual fulfillment, he is taken with a sense of malaise over his life and the future. “We know deep down in our souls that our generation is going to witness the end of everything” he says in his diary towards the end. It isn’t just Dark though, and there is a very curious manner to which Araki blends erotic sensuality -symbolic of the sexual freedom of these young people often illustrated in queer or non-conforming fashion (consider the BDSM dynamics of Jordan Ladd’s Alyssa and Thyme Lewis’s Elvis)- with violence, whether it is the consensual but far too extreme sadomasochist experience of Bart (Jeremy Jordan) whose heroin addiction has driven away his caring boyfriend Cowboy (Guillermo Diaz), or the deeply upsetting sexual assault of Egg (Sarah Lassez). That intersection of pleasure and pain can readily be seen as metaphorical for the LGBTQ experience of that time -and frankly, sadly ours as well.
And it is the ending that is the most fascinating as Dark, dejected by Mel, tries to find loving comfort with his other crush Montgomery (Nathan Bexton) -returned from having been abducted by aliens. But a coughing fit from him results in his body exploding and a cockroach emerging from it with the deadpan comment “I’m outta here” -leaving Dark alone, terrified, and even more confounded. It is striking as this interruption of a if not happy than hopeful, queer ending. But it is also fitting that it directly calls out Kafka’s Metamorphosis, a text that has long been subject to queer interpretation. What does this say about Montgomery? Or even Dark?
Nowhere is a baffling movie, but a fun and deeply interesting one. Araki’s visual style is so compelling throughout -especially in the production design on those vivid set-pieces like Bart’s newspaper clipping-lined bedroom, the windowless black cafe, or the party that looks like a twisted version of Peewee’s Playhouse; and also in the sensual evocatively lit sex scenes. It is a cogent movie on Gen-X and queer anxiety that also just happens to feature rubber-suited aliens, a video game-themed lesbian car-jacking gang, and death by tomato suit can. Truly, a work of art.

Criterion Recommendation: A Fantastic Woman (2017)
There isn’t much transgender cinema represented by the Criterion Collection for the sad fact that there isn’t a lot of it made in general. But certainly one that has broken through in the way that A Fantastic Woman has, winning a Best International Film Oscar and propelling its director Sebastián Lelio into greater worldwide prominence surely ought to deserve consideration. Starring an excellent Daniela Vega, this Chilean movie is the earnest and compassionate story of a trans woman Marina, whose attempts to mourn the sudden death of her partner are derailed and made difficult by social and institutional barriers to her, and in particular the attitudes of her lover’s family. Without being a sob story or taking anything away from her formidable strength of character, it is a good and thorough examination of the everyday struggles for trans people that subtly impede on their abilities to lead normal lives. Every conflict of the movie is forced on Marina, yet she emerges from each of them wounded though dignified. This is a movie that actually compelled the laws to change in Chile around trans rights, demonstrating the important role that art plays in making a better world. And why movies like A Fantastic Woman should be seen as widely as possible.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Strange History of the American Spoof Movie

Parody movies have been around for a lot longer than we tend to think of them. Even from the earliest days of Hollywood there were movies meant to satirize a particular subject or genre. In the silent era, Buster Keaton was responsible for a few. And in the early sound era, almost as soon as the monster pictures took off did you see comic versions of them -Abbott and Costello hosting a few. But parody movies tended to be subtle for most of cinema history, or parody came in conjunction with another goal of the comedy. It really wasn’t until the 1980s and 90s that it took off and became popularly understood. And there is perhaps a line to be drawn to the counterculture comedy explosion that began in the 1970s through avenues like  Saturday Night Live , which frequently parodied from even its earliest years popular movies and cultural properties of the time. But that is still a way’s back. To my generation though, ‘parody movie’ is perhaps a less known term than the more blunt ‘s...
1 comment
Read more

Notes on the Title Cards of The Lord of the Rings

It might be sacrilege for one who both considers The Lord of the Rings  trilogy to be one of the greatest triumphs of cinema and has been an avid lover of the films since adolescence, to declare that the original theatrical cuts of the films are better than the much beloved extended editions. Easily it’s my most controversial opinion regarding these movies. Don’t get me wrong, I do like the extended editions quite a lot, especially as someone who just enjoys spending time in that universe. They flesh it out more, add extra flavour, and in increasing the length by about an hour really emphasize the epic quality of these films. But I find that the original cuts are generally more cleanly paced, more seamlessly edited, and much more accessible to audiences. All the stuff there is to love about The Lord of the Rings  is there in the original versions, the plethora of new and extended scenes merely add to that for fans. And of those, they fall into three camps for me: 1....
14 comments
Read more

A Stylish and Charmingly Reinvented David Copperfield

The Personal History, Adventures, Experience and Observation of David Copperfield the Younger of Blunderstone Rookery (Which He Never Meant to Publish on Any Account)  is the most important book Charles Dickens ever wrote. It is not the most famous or influential by any means (that would of course be A Christmas Carol ), but it is the book that is the purest expression of the authors’ style, identity, and worldview. It is his most personal work, semi-autobiographical in its story of the chronology from infancy to adulthood of a character who overcomes great loss and hardships to find a fulfilling life as a writer. To read David Copperfield  is to understand Dickens himself. Armando Iannucci knew this when he decided to make a new adaptation of the novel for a twenty-first century audience. He also knew that Dickens adaptations are ubiquitous at this point. Films are a bit rarer, but every few years a new television adaptation rears its head to keep the authors’ unique world an...
Post a Comment
Read more