In other news, the world is getting increasingly vacuous, ruled by obnoxious popularity contest winners and super spoiled sweet sixteen parties. Nobody thinks for himself, and instead regurgitates the latest pop (insert anything here: culture, star, show, politics, etc) news as if it has true gravity in a world built of mean superficiality. A place where the talentless are rewarded with celebrity simply because they stake a claim to it, and the passive sheep on the receiving end of consumer culture let them -- from reality and entertainment television to shock and sports radio personalities. A culture where courtesy and basic politeness are overrun by a mean-spirited race of self-indulgent righteousness, led by an increasingly soulless media.
This is the world of Frank Murdock (Joel Murray), an upstate New York insurance salesman burdened by a recent divorce, a bratty kid, unpleasantly dismissive neighbors and painful migraines. His insomniac nights are spent listlessly watching television to drown the neighbor’s cacophony, filling the void of his life with obnoxious reality programming, entertainment shows, an American Idol rip-off, and a Limbaugh-like right wing talk host. His emptiness is permeated by the trailer-trash society that the media embraces and exemplifies, slowly filling him with rage and contempt.
In short order, Frank is fired from his mundane job; his attempt to cheer up a female coworker by sending her flowers was taken as zero-tolerance sexual harassment. A visit to his foully egotistical neurologist (are there any other kind?) to solve his migraines reveals fatal brain cancer. Frank Murdock is about to break bad, minus the meth.
At home, once again rejected by his daughter by phone, Frank finds his service sidearm and prepares to swallow a bullet. Readying himself, a reality show featuring the pinnacle of spoiled children - “Chloe” - comes on the television. A dim bulb lights up in his sad eyes. Stealing his neighbor’s bright yellow Camero, Frank sets off with some kind of loose, drunken plan.
He ends parking up in the woods around Chloe’s (Maddie Hasson) school in Virginia. While spying with binoculars, a curious high school brunette, Roxanne “Roxy” Harmon (Tara Lynn Barr), calls him out for being a peeping pervert. But when Frank takes the opportunity to remove Chloe from the planet, Roxy, witnessing it, thinks it’s the coolest thing in the world.
Back in some nondescript hotel, Frank prepares for suicide as Roxy knocks on his door. Taking pause, he lets the exuberant high-schooler into the room, and she not only talks him out of blowing his brains out, but instead gives him a new mission: killing the rude, the devoutly mean-spirited, and people who take two parking spaces. They start with Chloe’s parents before taking off on a coast-to-coast spree. Of note is one set piece in a movie theater, where “thank you for not talking during the feature” takes on new meaning.
A secondary plotline follows the American Idol ripoff, “American Superstarz,” where a borderline mentally challenged competitor, Stephen Clarke (Aris Alverato) was first ripped apart by the panel, gained sympathy after attempting suicide, and was then invited back to perform in the finals in Hollywood. Stunned at how Stephen was being used to get ratings, Frank sets his sights on the Superstarz final.
But the plot is merely a thin structure upon which a deeply rich critique of modern ‘Murica is posited through a brilliant script. The joy of the movie is in the monologues – a lost art on the screen, given over only to courtroom scenes, churches, voice overs, and the Cohen brothers. But these 3-5 minute gems from Frank are sharply focused social commentary, deploring the change in society towards mass consumption of media, and ‘Murica’s embrace of meanness as a calculated way of life.
Sadly, although Joel Murray is good with the dog-eyed look of a broken man struggling with suicide, his acting tends towards the flat. Perhaps the actor, perhaps the director, but the performance sometimes feels too deadpan for the material, as if it would breathe a little more with a little animation.
Roxy gets into the act as well, delivering the single most impassioned expression of Alice Cooper devotional ever penned. Tara Lynne Barr gives Roxy a wide-eyed enthusiasm and unbridled courage that only a well-sheltered but evil-minded woman/child could produce. She brings an energy that is admittedly lacking through the first third of the film, where the majority of Frank’s speeches dominate the narrative landscape.
In spite of the gunplay, the often excessively violent and graphic imagery, this is at its roots the blackest of social comedies. In spite of his brilliant script, Bobcat Goldthwaite’ directing chops still leave a little to be desired. The deliberate pacing tastes vaguely like a Cohen brothers film, but without the same depth of direction; which may be the film’s weakest point. Since this was direct to DVD/cable, I suspect there might not have been the budget to accomplish more than they did, and if it was so constrained, the minimalist approach at times is understood. In contrast, the dialogue would make David Mamet proud in both its insight and rhythm.
Passing by God Bless America is a sin. This is a black comedy that helps illuminate the soulless vacuum that’s developed in this country. It’s a thinker’s film in a way, forcing the mirror on the culture we have all allowed to flourish for the last 20 years, and at the same time damning us for it. It wouldn’t be so funny if it weren’t so true, and in that way, Bobcat has used filmmaking as a social commentary in ways that hasn’t been successfully done in decades. The beginning may be slow, and the comedy may not resonate with everyone, but once Roxy takes Frank on his mission as the Robin Hood of cultural sanity, the film moves at a lightning speed.
Part buddy movie, part road-trip, part vengeance flick, and all social commentary, God Bless America may be very uneven at times, but it may also be the most subversive film of the century to date. And you may never be able to listen to “Do you know” the same way again.
Rating: 7 of 10 bullet-ridden teddy bears
Pain Level: 2
Medication: 10 mg flexural, 7.5 mg mobic
JUST STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING AND CLICK HERE TO WATCH GOD BLESS AMERICA ON NETFLIX RIGHT NOW
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