DVD Review: The Work of Director Spike Jonze
by john wenzel
Spike Jonze, the enigmatic director behind Being John
Malkovich and Adaptation, has let loose his inaugural
(and long overdue) collection of music videos,
rarities and documentaries. The Work of Director
Spike Jonze is the first in his ambitious Director's
Label series, with additional releases in the coming
months from label co-conspirators Chris Cunningham and
Michel Gondry (Bjork, Aphex Twin, Chemical Bros.)
This DVD is essential viewing for anyone the least bit
intrigued by Jonze's stylistic schizophrenia and
brilliantly off-center logic, and a fitting archive of
some of the most important music videos of the '90s.
If you're looking for insight into Jonze's underlying
personality, there are few answers here. Is he crazy?
Deadly serious? An eccentric rich kid with a juvenile
sense of humor and sublime grasp of symmetry and
color?
None of these fully describe Jonze, though they do get
at his sensitive nature and unique, confrontational
visual style, painting a portrait of a contradictory,
experimental artist in his prime. From the relatively
straightforward video for The Breeders' "Cannonball"
(co-directed with Kim Gordon) to Pharcyde's stunningly
complex "Drop," Jonze exhibits an unfailing integrity
that places ideas before visual style, and often,
visual style above coherence.
Jonze fares best when he follows concepts to
completion. Pharcyde's "Drop," for example, is filmed
backwards then reversed, though this fact is only
apparent when liquids and clothing fly eerily through
the frame, the performers perfectly lip-synching the
words in reverse. The forethought and practice
required for this must have been excruciating. Bjork's
"It's Oh So Quiet" (in which she was reportedly nine
months pregnant) and Fatboy Slim's "Weapon of Choice"
(featuring a dancing, debonair, floating Christopher
Walken) also attest to Jonze's intricate planning
skills and bizarre sensibilities.
Jonze is also the master of straight-faced absurdity,
as anyone's who's seen Fatboy Slim's award-winning
"Praise You" video can attest. Under the guise of
Richard Koufay, the fictitious leader of the Torrance,
Calif. Community Dance Troupe, Jonze stages a guerilla
boombox performance in front of Mann's Chinese
Theater. As patrons wait in line, Jonze and his troupe
of talentless, '80s workout-gym hacks writhe
hilariously to "Praise You," nearly running into the
traffic and pedestrians around them. The building's
security shuts them down briefly, (to the dismay of
the crowd) but Jonze persuades them to let his crew
finish. It's an inspired piece of
performance-art-meets-practical-joke, blurring the
distinction between parody and abstract art.
On the other hand, Jonze takes the joke light years
beyond its logical conclusion and into the realm of
the conceptual. Head-scratchingly conceptual. He makes
a fake documentary of his troupe's journey to perform
their interpretive farce on the MTV Music Video
Awards. Of course, the performance is real, at least
in the sense that Jonze and his friends actually go
onstage to re-enact their guerilla video. But Jonze
stays in character to a fault, alternately confusing
and pissing off those around him -- those who can't
understand it's all part of an elaborate hoax.
He breathlessly pants to a hand-held video camera
about the exciting moment, unnervingly convincing as a
small-time loser with a shot at stardom. Cut to
reaction shots of Madonna and Eminem's faces (as
seated in the audience), illustrating the scattered
disgust felt when "Praise You" wins multiple awards.
"What's this crap?" you can almost hear them thinking.
"I worked my ass off to get that 40-person dance
routine down in MY video, and I didn't even get
nominated!"
That's when you realize some people just don't get it,
and never will. Even if they have a sense of humor
about themselves (as Eminem obviously does), they'll
never understand the harsh self-deprecation that is
Jonze' bread and butter. Face it: this is the guy that
produced Jackass, a show that either alienates or
endears viewers to its infantile (and frequently
side-splitting) brand of comedy. He was weaned on
skate videos and SoCal punk. He directed the
mind-warping film Being John Malkovich. He trades in
deflated egos and ambush tactics. What did you expect?
This contradiction - taking a joke so seriously as to
harm oneself in its telling - exposes the exceedingly
fine line Jonze walks. He deifies nothing and
everything. His style is defined by its willingness to
try whatever comes to mind. It's frequently hard to
discern whether his aim is imitation or parody, or
some sublime mixture thereof.
Most tellingly, he's fascinated by average, down-home
types, as his short documentaries on the DVD attest.
An impromptu afternoon spent with precocious Texan
bullrider-wannabes feels eerily like a sanitized
version of Harmony Korine's disturbing paean to white
trash, Gummo.
Is he mocking his subjects or capturing them in their
element? It's hard to tell, and endlessly entertaining
to watch.
{www.palmpictures.com}
Issue 16, October 2003
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