Larry Clark's a sick perverted bastard
Review: Wassup Rockers Larry Clark
Ok. I know what all of you are going to think when you first watch this movie. Especially if you know about the history of Larry Clark’s filmmaking (Kids, Bully). Why is this guy such a pervert? Am I right? Well, I can’t really blame you. It’s all justified. He seems to have a fascination with teenage decadence at the hands of drugs, violence, and; most disturbingly, sex. On top of that, Clark must include extended; and I needn’t mention awkward, shots of his young character’s body parts or sexual activities. It’s really quite weird. But, we can’t take away from the fact that Mr. Clark has an affinity for making rather believable portrayals of youthful nihilism. Despite the awkwardness inherent in exploring the seedier sides of being a teenager, each of his films exudes a level of believability that the “adolescent” film market needs.
Clark’s latest offering, Wassup Rockers, is another chapter in his celluloid novel about adolescent life. However, where his other films have characters who are more consciously decadent, the characters in this film are more innocent than anything.
The film circulates around a group of Latino skateboarders who live in South Central (“The Ghetto!”) Los Angeles. A normal day for this group is dealing with harassment at the hands of other kids, primarily African American, who have trouble accepting their long hair and tight pants. In one particular scene, Jonathan (one of the skateboarders) nearly gets in a fight with a stereotypically hip hop African American student once school gets out. The latter harassing the other by calling him a “rocker”. Here, we have an issue that Clark deals with in this film. It’s the fact that these kids have to live a difficult life because others can’t accept what they look like or how they act. The fact that these kids aren’t really looking for trouble doesn’t matter. Because they look “different”, they have to deal with harassment at the hands of the “gangster, gangster” culture that dominates their area of Los Angeles.
Despite this, it seems as if the skaters don’t really care about what all the others think about them. It actually becomes apparent that all that matters to them is sex with girls, then the girls themselves, then skateboarding, and finally rock and roll (although this is primarily because the boys are in a punk band together as well). In many scenes, the group talks about having sex with girls as they encounter the many young ladies that cross their path. In one scene, a particularly “loose” neighborhood girl named Rosalia walks by looking for some action with Jonathan. However, when he makes it known that he is not available, the forward young lady moves onto another member of the group. When that member returns, the first question Jonathan asks is whether or not he had sex with the girl. The conversation then moves onto the first time Jonathan had sex. All of this happens while the others skate a ledge around them. Like I said, all they think about is sex and skateboarding.
Up to this point, the “fly on the wall” insight that viewers get into a day in the life of these “skate punks” is actually quite interesting; albeit boring. The one problem with this movie comes when the actual “action” starts. This point, specifically, is when the boys take a bus trip out to Beverly Hills to skate a spot.
The problem with this section of the film is that it contradicts with the direction of the first half of the film. Where the first half seemed like a real documentary, including the beginning where Jonathan is interviewed, the second half almost seems like a contrived adventure where the boys run into various stereotypes. Here, the boys are exploring a neighborhood in Beverly Hills after escaping from police at the aforementioned skate spot. Their first encounter is with a group of young girls from the local high school. What they quickly learn is that, despite the clean image of big houses and shiny cars, safety is never a guarantee. It seems as if wherever these guys go, trouble follows. After encountering the local rich boy snobs, they run from house to house. Each house represents a certain image that is synonymous with the Beverly Hills scene. In one they encounter the rich; gay “artsy fartsy” crowd. In another, they encounter a drunken “big breasted” lady. Finally, they run into a Clint Eastwood desperado who shoots before he asks questions. At each house, the boys seem to run into some kind of trouble. Although the idea of a culture clash between the Beverly Hills crowd and these tight pant South Central punks is enticing, the way it is executed in this film; with the sudden progression from stereotype to stereotype, seems forced and unrealistic.
Despite this, the film is still a well executed portrayal of a bunch of innocent kids who just can’t seem to run away from trouble. The boys get a dose of reality in the span of one night. The pace of the film progresses with a certain degree of nonchalance that the boys have. I also enjoyed all the little details such as a character named Spermball wanting to be called by his real name (Milton) or how everyone calls these kids “Mexican” even though they are truly of mostly Salvadorian descent (the Beverly Hills cop can‘t even believe this). Another funny little thing is how one of them tries to commit suicide by drowning himself in a sink but can’t because he keeps pulling out when he runs out of breath. There’s a real sense of innocence that really adds to the character of this film.
This is definitely Clark’s least intimidating film to date. However, even with the quirks of the Beverly Hills scenes, this is a good document of American adolescence. Looking beyond all the awkward close-ups and the teenage sexuality, Clark is good at taking teenage issues seriously. After watching Wassup Rockers, the viewer should definitely get the feel that everything that happened to these boys can and might actually happen.
http://www.wassuprockers.net/
-Jeggi
posted by tarandfeather at 11:48 PM
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