You could say that the new sci-fi action thriller Repo Men is a film with heart-as well as kidneys, livers, lungs and the odd spleen. David Cronenberg meets John Woo at the corner of Brazil and Logan's Run in this dystopian vision of a near-future in which mind-blowing, life-extending high-tech advancements in organ replacement have become available to all. Teabaggers needn’t panic-it’s not part of a government-sponsored health care plan being shoved down anyone’s throat; as long as you flash a valid credit card, with a low down payment and EZ installment plan, you too can be the happy recipient of a shiny new mechanical bladder (hopefully bereft of any “sudden acceleration” issues). There is one catch. If your account becomes delinquent, the manufacturer sends a repo man to retrieve its property…with no regards as to whatever else it might be attached to.
Needless to say, organ repo is a rather messy gig, but somebody’s got to do it; somebody who is stealthy, skilled with sharp instruments, impervious to the inevitable pleas for mercy, has a good gag reflex and doesn’t mind filling out the requisite paperwork. Remy (Jude Law) and his long time partner Jake (Forest Whitaker) are two such men. For example, Jake has no problem excusing himself from a backyard barbeque for a few minutes to perform a quick “favor”-the unceremonious disembowelment of a deadbeat “client” in the driveway, then returning to the business of grilling hot dogs and shooting the shit with family and co-workers. As he frequently reminds Remy, “A job… is a job.”
Remy has been suffering through a personal crisis as of late. His wife (Carice van Houten) is at the end of her rope with her husband’s “on-call” job; she’s tired of watching him leap out of bed at 3am to suit up and go running off into the night so he can yank out some hapless debtor’s entrails in order to keep food on the table. Under threat of separation, she’s pressuring him to go into sales-but of course, he’s a repo man, through and through and knows in his heart of hearts that he is not sales material (you could say he’s more of an “opener” than a “closer”). The weaselly head of sales (Liev Schreiber) knows that as well-Remy is his number one man in the field, and he’d prefer to keep him there. Fate intervenes when Remy suffers a heart attack while out on a call. Awakening from a coma, he discovers that he’s being kept alive with a “Jarvik-39”. The bad news is that he can’t recall signing the sales contract that now makes him an indebted client of his own employer, which also renders him subject to that fine print about overdue accounts. I’ll give you three guesses as to what happens next. Here’s a hint for you: “Run, runner!”
Although Repo Men borrows freely from the films I mentioned earlier (as well as becoming the 387th sci-fi movie to co-opt the Blade Runner production design template), it is directed with a certain amount of verve by Miguel Sapochnik. The screenplay, which was adapted by Eric Garcia and Garrett Lerner from Garcia’s own novel (“The Repossession Mambo”) works best when it waxes satirical, which helps take the edge off the gruesome aspects (I found the idea of an employee who suits up in full body costume as a company mascot named “Larry the Lung” pretty amusing). Interestingly, although I am quite squeamish when it comes to blood and guts (I can’t watch any of those reality shows about medical procedures for 30 seconds before my gorge begins to rise), the “repossessions” didn’t bother me; perhaps because it was so over the top that it was cartoonish. In fact, I thought the film played like a live-action manga (more so than many recent films that actually were based on mangas or graphic novels). The action scenes are stylish and well-choreographed, which moves things along. One kinky and visceral scene sure to have audiences buzzing involves Law and Alice Braga (as a character who is like the Bionic Woman-with bad credit). I wouldn’t exactly call it a “sex” scene, but it is consensual, and does involve penetration (that’s all I’m prepared to disclose at this time).
There seems to be some fanboy hysterics going on in various chatrooms concerning this film’s alleged glaring similarities to a 2008 low-budget indie musical called Repo! The Genetic Opera, which I have not seen, nor frankly had ever even heard of until I was doing some background research for my review. So alas, I can only offer ambivalence regarding this particular issue. Then again, if I lost sleep over every Hollywood script that was cloned from another Hollywood script, I would be suffering from terminal insomnia.
It is odd kismet that the film is opening on the very weekend that the health care bill debacle is coming to a head. I’m sure the filmmakers see that merely as happy coincidence, as I didn’t glean any purposeful political subtext (aside that one could interpret this film to represent the speculative extreme of an unregulated free market-health care system, just as Robocop did for the concept of a completely corporative law enforcement system). Aw, hell, I’m thinking too much. See it for the cool action scenes.
Big star in Heaven
O My Soul: Alex Chilton 1951-2010
In the early to mid 70s, a then yet-to-be-named rock ‘n’ roll subgenre emerged. It was a sound that took chiming Beatlesque harmonies and jangly Roger Mcguinn chord shapes, threw in a dash of The Who, Small Faces and the Kinks, plugged it all into a Marshall stack and said all that it had to say in 3 minutes or under. For my money, The Holy Trinity of power pop’s first wave was Badfinger, The Raspberries, and Big Star. The latter outfit proved to be the most influential, paving the way for bands like Cheap Trick, The Flamin’ Groovies and Pezband, who in turn opened the gates for early 80’s New Wave power poppers like The Plimsouls, 20/20, The Records, The Shoes and The dBs.
Big Star co-founder Alex Chilton may not be a household name, but to power pop aficionados, he is an icon; I was saddened to hear of his death this week at age 59. I still get an instant warm and fuzzy feeling whenever a Big Star staple like “When My Baby’s Beside Me”, “September Gurls”, or “Back of a Car” pops up in my mp3 player’s shuffle. Anyone who has heard “The Letter” by his first band, the Boxtops will surely recognize his voice (unbelievably, the owner of those soulful pipes was only 16 at the time). I once had the pleasure of seeing Chilton perform here in Seattle during a Big Star revival tour, with a lineup that included original Big Star drummer Jody Stephens, along with local musicians Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow of the Posies (one of the better contemporary power pop bands). It was a magical evening, with the 50-ish Chilton demonstrating to the crowd that he still had “it”. Please join me, as we bow our heads for a four-chord salute:
and Logan's Run
in this dystopian vision of a near-future in which mind-blowing, life-extending high-tech advancements in organ replacement have become available to all. Teabaggers needn’t panic-it’s not part of a government-sponsored health care plan being shoved down anyone’s throat; as long as you flash a valid credit card, with a low down payment and EZ installment plan, you too can be the happy recipient of a shiny new mechanical bladder (hopefully bereft of any “sudden acceleration” issues). There is one catch. If your account becomes delinquent, the manufacturer sends a repo man to retrieve its property…with no regards as to whatever else it might be attached to.
production design template), it is directed with a certain amount of verve by Miguel Sapochnik. The screenplay, which was adapted by Eric Garcia and Garrett Lerner from Garcia’s own novel (“The Repossession Mambo”) works best when it waxes satirical, which helps take the edge off the gruesome aspects (I found the idea of an employee who suits up in full body costume as a company mascot named “Larry the Lung” pretty amusing). Interestingly, although I am quite squeamish when it comes to blood and guts (I can’t watch any of those reality shows about medical procedures for 30 seconds before my gorge begins to rise), the “repossessions” didn’t bother me; perhaps because it was so over the top that it was cartoonish. In fact, I thought the film played like a live-action manga (more so than many recent films that actually were based on mangas or graphic novels). The action scenes are stylish and well-choreographed, which moves things along. One kinky and visceral scene sure to have audiences buzzing involves Law and Alice Braga (as a character who is like the Bionic Woman-with bad credit). I wouldn’t exactly call it a “sex” scene, but it is consensual, and does involve penetration (that’s all I’m prepared to disclose at this time).
, which I have not seen, nor frankly had ever even heard of until I was doing some background research for my review. So alas, I can only offer ambivalence regarding this particular issue. Then again, if I lost sleep over every Hollywood script that was cloned from another Hollywood script, I would be suffering from terminal insomnia.