Thus far, all of Jared Hess' films have been about likable weirdo losers who become likable weirdo heroes with a little help from their likable weirdo friends. "Gentlemen Broncos", which sees Michael Angarano playing an awkward teenage sci-fi writer whose work is plagiarised by an arrogant celebrity author, is no different.
Many of Hess' films take place in a world which seems to be a hybrid of the 1980s and the 21st century. But "Gentlemen Broncos" is also evoking another subculture: a distinctly 1970s brand of psychedelic, mind-bending science fiction literature, mixed with what looks like early 1950s Weird Tales art. For this reason, "Gentlemen Broncos" will appeal mostly to die-hard sci-fi nuts. The kind of people who understand that sci-fi once meant weed smoking, P. K. Dick reading hippie delinquents rather than affluent internet nerds with "Star Wars" toys.
With its intentionally cheap special effects, kitschy style, deadpan idiocy and a number of fantasy sequences starring the brilliant Sam Rockwell as a Yeast Lord who rides a hover reindeer with a machine gun up its anus and rocket launchers strapped to its chest – I'm not making this up – the film captures that crazy moment when hard science fiction died, becoming the watered down demon we now associate sci-fi with today.
If you've seen "Napoleon Dynamite" you know the drill. The film is a comedy with a small joke quota, but a consistently retarded tone. It works, but Hess' loving assembly of misfits and oddballs aren't as interesting this time around, and his attempts at being heart-warming and uplifting feel schematic and predictable. If "Napoleon Dynamite's" victory ending worked, it's only because the film was self-consciously tapping into your typical teen movie finale. In contrast, "Gentlemen Broncos'" ending is just lazy.
8/10 – You've got to be a weed smoking P. K. Dick fan with a oddball sense of humour to like this. Rockwell, as always, is a blast.
Worth one viewing.
Many of Hess' films take place in a world which seems to be a hybrid of the 1980s and the 21st century. But "Gentlemen Broncos" is also evoking another subculture: a distinctly 1970s brand of psychedelic, mind-bending science fiction literature, mixed with what looks like early 1950s Weird Tales art. For this reason, "Gentlemen Broncos" will appeal mostly to die-hard sci-fi nuts. The kind of people who understand that sci-fi once meant weed smoking, P. K. Dick reading hippie delinquents rather than affluent internet nerds with "Star Wars" toys.
With its intentionally cheap special effects, kitschy style, deadpan idiocy and a number of fantasy sequences starring the brilliant Sam Rockwell as a Yeast Lord who rides a hover reindeer with a machine gun up its anus and rocket launchers strapped to its chest – I'm not making this up – the film captures that crazy moment when hard science fiction died, becoming the watered down demon we now associate sci-fi with today.
If you've seen "Napoleon Dynamite" you know the drill. The film is a comedy with a small joke quota, but a consistently retarded tone. It works, but Hess' loving assembly of misfits and oddballs aren't as interesting this time around, and his attempts at being heart-warming and uplifting feel schematic and predictable. If "Napoleon Dynamite's" victory ending worked, it's only because the film was self-consciously tapping into your typical teen movie finale. In contrast, "Gentlemen Broncos'" ending is just lazy.
8/10 – You've got to be a weed smoking P. K. Dick fan with a oddball sense of humour to like this. Rockwell, as always, is a blast.
Worth one viewing.