***/**** Image A Sound A- Extras B+
starring Harry Dean Stanton, Emilio Estevez, Tracey Walter, Olivia Barash
written and directed by Alex Cox
by Travis Mackenzie Hoover SPOILER WARNING IN EFFECT. The question I ask after a screening of Repo Man is this: is it punk? And if it isn't punk, what is it? Those used to the anarcho-communitarian (i.e., "nice") ideals adopted by punk's intelligentsia would have no truck with the mentality of this film, whose hero, Otto Maddox (Emilio Estevez), is in it for cheap thrills and hasn't got an ideal in his head. Indeed, once he gets sucked into the more "intense" world of car repossessor Bud (Harry Dean Stanton) and thus gainful employment, he distances himself from his punk friends–as represented by the three mohawk'd chumps whose idea of "doing crimes" is "let's order sushi and not pay!" But the repo gig leads to another dead end, as Bud turns out to be a blowhard full of idiot rules and his compatriots prove more unstable than Otto's old friends. There is no future to Otto's dreaming–just the cul-de-sac of punk's dark flipside: nihilism.
Otto isn't of the 1977 British variety of punk, with its working-class rage and genuine political frustration. By 1984, that mentality had dispersed into something less ideologically attached–and the new-school rules were up for anybody bored and mean-spirited. It's telling that the only glimmer of clarity Otto has is when he contemptuously snarls, "You're just a white suburban punk like me!" at a dying liquor-store robber with a skinhead mug–meaning the annexing of underclass rage doesn't make you underclass yourself. The adoption of anarchy by even the mildly privileged signalled a watering-down of its more high-minded ideals, and so Repo Man flirts with the notion of dangerous work being essentially more punk than punk. The more ridiculously hazardous jobs Otto does, the more contemptuous he becomes of the punk mentality–while at the same time moving closer to the ethos of the working world
It's impossible to tell how writer-director Alex Cox feels about all this. On the one hand, his wholehearted embrace of the milieu is obvious, and the detail with which he sketches it suggests a proximity that's too close for amateur anthropology. On the other hand, he's determined to burlesque the whole thing. The motor for the narrative, no pun intended, is a 1964 Chevy Malibu with a nuclear device in its trunk (driven by J. Frank Parnell (Fox Harris), the inventor of the neutron bomb) that a shadowy government organization is determined to collect. Otto's girlfriend Leila (Olivia Barash) is a UFO activist who also seeks the Malibu, thus reducing the fictive space–and the stakes for the characters–to a supermarket tabloid. Otto bears out as our representative in a world full of deluded idiots and further devalued by the parody chase for the dangerous car, which floods the screen with all manner of crazy folk determined to miss the point completely.
Everybody appears to be in it for themselves–except, of course, for mechanic Miller (Tracey Walter), whose crackpot espousement of total interconnectedness and rejection of the brass ring of cars ("I do my best thinking on the bus") keep him above the fray and out of corruption. Where Bud's Repo Man Code is ultimately inoperable and blunt-witted opposite number Lite (Sy Richardson) is too chaotic for comfort, Miller's belief in cosmic equilibrium seems positively delightful. That his program is inane batshit isn't the point–the sentiment that there's one purpose is what counts, and it's that which allows him, instead of the opportunistic punks and repo men, to finally gain control of the automotive grail that has been sought like suckers on the road in Godard's Week End. The Holy Fool trumps everyone, and Otto's willingness to listen lets him be the ultimate passenger.
Slavoj Žižek once remarked that the purpose of some transgressive art isn't exactly to break rules but to reassure oneself that the rules are there to be broken. The snarky bleak ending of Repo Man–with the earth blown off in a puff of hyperspace–is there to imply that the rules are what we need, not Anarchy in the UK. Yet if punk cried "no future" to secure one, is that a contradiction? Is punk's ultimate goal to put itself out of business, to establish rules in light of their absence? Or does it paradoxically perpetuate the chaos it proposes to curtail, because it's so damned fun to be on the brink of Armageddon? Questions like these make it impossible to know if the film is on the level or contemptuously dismissive, as the beast known as punk circles like a serpent perpetually eating its tail.
THE DVD
Reclaiming the DVD rights from Anchor Bay (who released their own THX-certified platter back in 2000), Universal division Focus Features does Repo Man proud on the format. The 1.85:1, 16×9-enhanced image is extremely vivid, and while deep reds tend to look oversaturated (the Camaro's paint job is particularly blinding), the throbbing hues of Robbie Müller's sodium-lamp green are beautifully controlled. The largely-hemispheric Dolby Digital 5.1 remix is almost as fine, perhaps spreading the original audio a bit thin but coming through with flying colours during the climactic bout with the radioactive car. Each and every punk song sounds suitably blistering.
Extras begin with the same film-length yak-track featuring Alex Cox, executive producer Michael Nesmith (of Monkees fame), casting director Victoria Thomas, and actors Sy Richardson, Zander Schloss, and Del Zamora that graced Anchor Bay's disc. It's a pretty convivial affair, with everyone remembering hilariously unpleasant circumstances (such as the damaging of the first Malibu on the first day) and relating similar anecdotal madness for the remainder. Though they're a little self-impressed (often rhyming off the film's non-essential "firsts"), the participants provide an entertaining nostalgia session full of cutting-up and falling-down laughter. Meanwhile, "Up Close with Harry Dean Stanton" (21 mins.)–onscreen title, "Harry Zen Stanton"–catches up with the indie stalwart at his home. He lives up to the official title, advocating a fatalistic viewpoint that renders all action preordained and all choice meaningless. The interviewer tries to challenge him, but Stanton will have none of it, and the result makes for fascinating (if infuriating) viewing.
In "Repossessed" (25 mins.), Cox and producers Jonathan Wacks and Peter McCarthy together chart the alternately torturous and fortuitous path Repo Man took to the screen. The three chat about everything from the demotion of Dick Rude from lead to supporting player (Rude himself expresses his disappointment in a talking-head) to the ending that one of the producers had to write when Universal vetoed the original. Not bad, and additional clips with Richardson and Zamora fill in the blanks. Finally, "The Missing Scenes" (25 mins.) has an unusual way of dealing with deleted scenes, interspersing them with commentary from Cox and, no joke, Sam Cohen, the inventor of the neutron bomb, who claims that this and Dr. Strangelove are his favourite films. If many of these elisions deserved to fall by the wayside, a more explicit scene of Otto walking in on a cheating girlfriend would have raised some stakes, while a shot of Stanton attacking a phone booth is fairly hilarious. Rounding out the package: the film's trailer plus trailers for Brick, "Battlestar Galactica", The Big Lebowski, and a spot promoting season sets of "Gimme a Break!", "Charles in Charge", and "Kate and Allie".
93 minutes; R; 1.85:1 (16×9-enhanced); English DD 5.1, English DD 2.0 (Mono); English SDH, French, Spanish subtitles; DVD-9; Region One; Universal
