Saturday Night At The Movies

The April fools: Top 10 Mockumentaries

By Dennis Hartley
















Homeland security, circa 1984:Simpler times



OK, so April fool’s Day was 3 days ago, but who’s counting? Besides, I’ll milk anything for a Top 10 theme. I thought it might be fun this week to take a look at some filmmakers who have made it their mission to yank on our collective lanyards (does that hurt?). So, in no particular ranking order, here are my picks for the “Top 10 Mockumentaries”:

Best in Show-Christopher Guest’s name has become synonymous with the word “mockumentary”, and for good reason. He and his repertory company of actors and co-writers have delivered some of the more memorable examples of the genre in the last decade or so (Waiting for Waiting for Guffman, A Mighty Wind, For Your Consideration), and I think this gentle poke at dog lovers represents his own “best in show” so far. Guest uses a Robert Altman-style framing device to deliver a revolving study of various eccentric characters as they all converge (with pooches in tow) to compete against each other at a national dog show. Of course, it is ultimately all about the owners and their egos, not the dogs and their poise (which makes me wonder if Guest took just a bit of inspiration from Errol Morris’ Gates of Heaven, a classic documentary about a California pet cemetery.) Perhaps it is unfair to single anyone out with such a tight comic ensemble in play, but Fred Willard is a definite highlight as a witless TV commentator (is that redundant?) and Parker Posey and Michael Hitchcock chew major scenery as an obnoxious yuppie couple. More standouts: Catherine O’Hara, Michael McKean, John Michael Higgins, Jane Lynch, Jennifer Coolidge, Larry Miller and Eugene Levy (who co-scripted). Woof!

The Blair Witch Project-This may not fit the standard definition of a mockumentary in a traditional “ha-ha” sense; and perhaps it was ultimately the audience who was being mocked here, but (love it or hate it) there is no denying the impact that this cleverly marketed trifle has had on modern filmmaking. Keep in mind-this film came out a few years before any yahoo with a cell phone camera could file an “I-report” on CNN or become a viral video star. In the event that you spent most of 1999 in a coma, this is the one where several young amateur actors were turned loose in some dark and scary woods, armed with camping gear, video cameras and a plot point or two provided by the filmmakers, who then proceeded to play creepy, “gotcha” mind games with their merry troupe. The result was surprisingly effective, because after all, it’s the IDEA that “something” in the woods is out to get you which brings on the nightmares-not some guy in a rubber monster suit lurching about in front of the camera. There are still some “chicken-egg” debates raging over whether the very similar low budget fright, The Last Broadcast (1998) or possibly an obscure cult item from 1980 called Cannibal Holocaust (don’t ask) deserves the kudos (or the blame) as the kick-starter for this sub-genre.

Borat -I think the closest I have ever come to literally passing out laughing was when I watched a faux-newsmagazine segment on HBO’s Da Ali G Show featuring a visiting Kazakhstani “journalist” named Borat, leading a barroom full of drunken, happily obliging all-‘murcan rednecks in a rousing chorus of a “traditional” song from his homeland called “Throw the Jew Down the Well”. Appallingly tasteless? To a channel-surfer, perhaps…but since I knew going in that the obliviously coarse ‘Borat’ was really a brilliant, Cambridge-educated British satirist (and nice Jewish boy) named Sacha Baron Cohen who was only illustrating a point about the inherent racism that still runs rampant here in the good ol’ U S of A, I was in full ROTFL mode (while crying on the inside, of course). Cohen teamed up with director Larry Charles in 2006 for a feature-length extrapolation on this loopy, “must be seen to be believed” sketch character, basically expanding on the premise already established on the HBO series. Cohen commits himself with Andy Kaufman-esque intensity; never once breaking character as he befuddles, outrages and enrages the hapless yokels he encounters (who we assume are not in on the joke). A unique blend of expert, hilarious crank-yanking and smart, incisive social satire.

Drop Dead Gorgeous-Making a mockery of beauty contests may be tantamount to “shooting fish in a barrel”, but as far as guilty pleasures go, you could do worse than this faux backstage documentary from 1999 about a Minnesota pageant that goes horribly, horribly wrong (on so many levels). Director Michael Patrick Jann went on to direct 40 episodes of Comedy Central’s outrageous Cops parody, Reno 911, which should give you a clue as to what you’re in for here. Star Kirsten Dunst plays it fairly straight, and is easily out-hammed by Ellen Barkin (an absolute riot as her trailer-trash mom) and an extremely over-the-top Kirstie Alley as the Stage Mother From Hell. Gorgeous Denise Richards shows a real flair for comedy with a show-stopping, jaw-dropping “so bad that it’s good” performance number dedicated to the “special fella in her life”, a Mr. J. Christ. Also in the cast: Alison Janey, Brittany Murphy and Amy Adams. The film is a bit reminiscent of a (gentler) beauty pageant spoof from 1975 called Smile (recommended).

F for Fake- “This is a promise,” Orson Welles intones, looking directly into the camera, “For the next hour, everything you hear from us is really true and based on solid fact.” Ay, but here’s the rub: This playful ‘documentary’ about Elmyr de Hory (“the world’s greatest art forger”) and his biographer Clifford Irving (infamous for his own fakery) runs for 85 minutes. Ever feel like someone’s having you on? That’s the subject of Welles’ 1974 rumination on the meaning of art, and the art of the con (something that the creator of the infamous “War of the Worlds” radio broadcast knew a thing or two about). Not for all tastes; some may find it too scattershot and even incoherent at times, but there is a method to the madness, and attentive viewers will be rewarded. A musical score from the great Michel Legrand (The Umbrellas of Cherbourg) is a nice bonus. Even toward the end of an admittedly chequered career, with his prowess as a filmmaker arguably on the wane, any completed project by the great Welles demands your attention (at least once!).

Hard Core Logo-Frequently compared with This is Spinal Tap, this film from iconoclastic Canadian director Bruce McDonald does Reiner’s film one better-it’s got real substance. Now, obviously I love Spinal Tap (otherwise it wouldn’t have been included on this “Top 10” list), but it relentlessly opts for the quick yuck, sometimes at the expense of becoming slightly smug and condescending toward its subject matter. McDonald’s film, on the other hand, mixes its humor with genuine dramatic tension and even some surprising poignancy, particularly in its portrayal of the complex, mercurial relationship between the two main characters, Joe Dick (Hugh Dillon) and Billy Tallent (Callum Keith Rennie). Joe and Billy front a “legendary” D.I.Y. punk band called Hard Core Logo, who hit the road for a belated reunion tour. McDonald plays himself, as the director who is documenting what could turn out to be the band’s final hurrah. The film is full of great throwaway lines (“I can’t come to the phone right now. I’m eating corn chips and masturbating. Please leave a message.”). There are also a ton of obscure references in Noel S. Baker’s screenplay that truly dedicated rock music geeks (guilty!) will delight in. This is part of a trilogy (of sorts) by McDonald that includes Roadkill and Highway 61.

Real Life-Stylistically speaking, this underrated 1979 gem from writer-director Albert Brooks presaged Christopher Guest & company’s successful mockumentary franchise by at least a decade. In fact, the screenplay was co-written by Guest alum Harry Shearer (along with Brooks’ long-time creative collaborator, Monica Mcgowan Johnson). Real Life is a brilliant take-off on the 1973 PBS miniseries, An American Family (which I suppose can now be tagged as the original “reality TV” experiment). Brooks basically plays himself-a neurotic, narcissistic comedian who decides to direct a documentary that will intimately profile the daily life of a “perfect” American family. After vetting several candidates (represented via a montage of hilarious “tests” conducted at a behavioral studies institute), he decides on the Yeager family of Phoenix, Arizona (headed by the ever-wry Charles Grodin, who was born for this role). The film becomes funnier and funnier as it becomes more about the self-absorbed filmmaker himself (and his tremendous ego) rather than his subjects. Brooks takes a lot of jabs at Hollywood, and at clueless studio execs in particular. If you’ve never seen this one, you’re in for a real treat.

Take the Money and Run-This is one of Woody Allen’s “earlier, funny films”. It’s also one of the seminal mockumentaries, and an absolute riot from start to finish. Woody casts himself as bumbling career criminal Virgil Starkwell, who is the subject of this faux biopic. Narrated with tongue-in-cheek gravitas by veteran voice-over maestro Jackson Beck, the film traces Starkwell’s trajectory from his early days as a petty criminal (knocking over gumball machines) to his career apex as a “notorious” bank robber. In one of the most singularly hilarious gags Allen has ever conceived, Virgil blows a heist by arguing with a bank manager over his penmanship on a scribbled stickup note that he has handed to a teller, who is very confused by the sentence that appears to read; “I have a gub.” Although I’d have to say it’s a tossup between that scene and the one that involves an on-the-lam Virgil, knocking on a farmhouse door and asking to use the phone whilst still connected via leg irons to an entire chain gang of fellow escapees, who each offer a polite nod to their kind host as they shuffle through the door one by one. A true comedy classic, not to be missed. BTW-if you ever plan to break out of jail by wielding a fake revolver carved from a bar of soap…a word of advice? Check the weather report!

This is Spinal Tap- Sometimes, I have to be reminded that it was Rob Reiner who directed this cult fave from 1984; because it features several of the key players who went on to form the creative core of Christopher Guest’s mockumentary franchise. Reiner generously shared screenplay credits with his three stars-Guest, Harry Shearer and Michael McKean, who portray Spinal Tap founders Nigel Tufnel (guitar), Derek Smalls (bass) and David St. Hubbins (lead vocals), respectively. “Screenplay” might be a loose term here; as much of the dialog was allegedly improvised on the fly by the actors. Reiner is “rockumentary” filmmaker Marti Dibergi, who is tagging along with the hard rocking British outfit on a grueling tour of the states. By the time the film’s relatively brief 84 minutes have expired, no one (and I mean, no one) involved in the business of rock’n’roll has been spared the knife-the musicians, roadies, girlfriends, groupies, fans, band managers, rock journalists, concert promoters, record company execs, A & R reps, even record store clerks…you name it, they all get bagged and tagged. Admittedly, a lot of the jokes are pretty “inside”; I’ve noticed that the people who tend to dismiss this film also tend to not be rock music aficionados (or perhaps even more tellingly, have never played in a band!). Nonetheless, a classic of its kind. Remember-you can’t dust for vomit.

True Stories-New Yawk musician/raconteur David Byrne (that’s MISTER Talking Heads to you) enters the Lone Star state of mind with this subtly satirical Texas travelogue from 1986. It is not easy to pigeonhole this one- part social satire, part long-form music video, part mockumentary. The episodic vignettes about the quirky but generally likable inhabitants of sleepy Virgil, Texas should hold your fascination once you buy into "tour-guide" Byrne's bemused anthropological detachment (some might say, "conceit", but there is no detectable mean-spiritedness here). Among the town’s “residents”: John Goodman, “Pops” Staples, Swoosie Kurtz and the late, great Spalding Gray. The outstanding cinematography is by Edward Lachman. Byrne’s fellow Heads have cameos performing “Wild Wild Life”. Not everyone’s cup of tea, perhaps- but for some reason, I have an emotional attachment to this film that I can’t even explain (shrug).

Previous posts with related themes:

The Hoax/Color Me Kubrick

My Kid Could Paint That


Update: Here's some weird synchronicity. I swear, I didn't plan this (and no, I am not a shill or a programmer for the network), but I was looking at my cable schedule for tonight, and beginning at 5pm, Turner Classic Movies is having a mockumentary film festival! And in an even weirder bit of kismet, all four films are on my Top 10 list. They will be airing Take the Money and Run, Real Life, Best in Show and This is Spinal Tap. You start the popcorn, I'll go melt some butter...