Earlier in my many diatribes about the world of celluloid, I have described my paradigm for grading a film. The more fodder to which it provides me in the form of raw insults, one-liners, and pot shots that need to be taken, then a critic's level of verbosity is directly related to the cinematic quality of the film. The higher up the quality ladder a film goes, the more a critic is forced to resort to oftentimes clichéd praises, such as `great acting' or the ever-dreadful `best film of the year.' High enough up into the quality stratosphere, and the greatest of films initially provide almost no response. They're pondered over. Introductory paragraphs are mulled over for hours, and philosophical diatribes that earn us insults such as `elitist prick' ensue.
In case you haven't yet caught on by the ironic tone of that BS introductory paragraph, I really liked The Doom Generation. In fact, it was good enough that the initial response provoked was a sensory overload, and a mere two words escaping my lips: `Fucked up.' In the two years since initially watching this masterpiece of perversion and post-apocalyptical philosophy, I have come up with other descriptors. Ironic. Incredible. Intelligent. Sardonic. Satirical. Irreverent. Beautiful. Homoerotic. Pensive. In fact, this is one of those movies where I can make up an adjective for each letter of the alphabet to describe The Doom Generation.
Sadly, two of those adjectives happen to be `subversive' and `underground,' resulting in a generalized lack of awareness as to what The Doom Generation is.
The Doom Generation, put as simply as possible, is a near-apocalyptic joyride through the netherworld of Los Angeles that takes pot shots on all that America considers Holy… and makes any ardent lover of cult films want to bow to director Gregg Araki's greatness.
It starts off at a techno party in the land of wherever, LA, America. Lights flash, Nine Inch Nails blares, and we are greeted with a title card that says `A Completely Heterosexual Movie by Gregg Araki.' Then Amy Blue (Rose McGowan, whose largest parts have been the female lead in Jawbreaker and playing Tatum in Scream) says, `fuck.' Like everyone else in LA, she's in post-riot mode. Confused, thinking the end time is nigh but not wanting to put it into religious terminology, and in a quasi-steady relationship with Jordan White (James Duval). Having gone out for a really long time (a month), Blue and White are about to consummate their relationship in a really cheap car when Xavier Red (Johnathon Schaech) gets into a fight right outside, begins stabbing people, and ends up being let inside of their car. Red, White, and Blue grab a hotel room for the night, Amy keeps being mistaken for everyone's former girlfriend, and Red and White keep sleeping with Blue as a way to deal with their homoerotic potential.
If you think it's crazy now, wait until the end of the movie.
One of the few films where complete and utter absurdity doesn't hurt the plot, The Doom Generation careens down LA freeways with the top down and its middle finger extended. If you're able to stand a film that knows no boundaries, then The Doom Generation is for you. You will find pearl after pearl of anarchistic wisdom within Gregg Araki's vision, and laugh after laugh at the prevalence of bizarre experiences (and the number 666). But if you're a conservative who has somehow made it past my mentions of gay sex, satanic imagery, metal, and a satirizing of American values, than by all means stay away. Lock up your children. Find out if any relatives of Joe McCarthy are currently in the Senate. Otherwise, enjoy.
RATING: *****
MPAA Rating: R
Director: Gregg Araki Producer: Gregg Araki, Andrea Sperling Writer: Gregg Araki Starring: Rose McGowan, James Duvall, Johnathon Schaech
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