There is a scene in Richard Linklater's Fast Food Nation where two illegal Mexican immigrants sit in the back of a pickup truck as they are being carted off to work at a meat packing plant in a midsize Colorado town. As the truck glides down the town's main drag, the two men are greeted with their first uninhibited sight of America: a landscape comprised of chain restaurants and $2.99 Happy Meals-a literal sea of neon signs and billboards. From this, it's obvious that Fast Food Nation isn't a movie that holds its punches. With each passing burger joint and pizza place dotted along the road, Linklater is posing a silent question. He's asking about consumerism and an American obsession with immediacy. He's criticizing the "bigger is better" and "quantity over quality" aphorisms that have run amuck amongst this country's social conscience. But, as the film progresses, it becomes clear that Linklater likes to pose more questions than he actually likes to answer. The film is attempting to be a desperate wake up call to a society that is trying to eat itself to death. But, in reality, what we get is nothing more than a bold prophet that simply can't begin to live up to or answer its own queries.
Based on a nonfiction book of the same name, Fast Food Nation ultimately fails because it doesn't quite know what it's trying to do. Filmed in a style that feels very organic, Linklater is attempting to blur his cinematic world with that of reality-where his fictionalized "Mickey's" burger joint could easily pass for the local McDonalds or Taco Bell. This realist approach is juxtaposed against the fictionalized characters that artificially inhabit the playing field. To put it bluntly, it's a mixture that just doesn't work. Several sub-stories are told in conjunction with each other, each poorly paced and each not given the appropriate attention it deserves. For instance, Greg Kinnear's blissfully ignorant fast food marketing executive is completely dropped halfway through the film. This unevenness not only feels awkward, it stilts the narrative structure. If the character is so unimportant that he can just disappear, why should we care? The other stories get similar treatment, complete with stereotypical teenage miscreants and an overly aggressive meat packing foreman that preys upon the immigrants that work there. The moments of genuine emotion-such as Catalina Sandino Moreno's performance as a distraught migrant wife-are too few and far between. The rest of the movie is clumsily ground together with odd cameos that, while somewhat interesting, are not smoothly congealed into the rest of the recipe.
By the time Linklater gives us his grand finalean uncensored, raw look at the killing floor of a meat packing plant-we get the feeling that the film is less concerned about stirring genuine emotions and more interested in manipulatively gutting the feelings out of us. If we can watch such bovine terror, than darn it, we should feel something! Yet, there is no connection to what we are seeing. It's a spectacle, stuffing us with a bombardment of grotesque images that ineffectually force us to react-gross, but ultimately hollow. And in that respect, ironically, Fast Food Nation is very much like the pre-made meals it claims to despisesomewhat visually appetizing, but ultimately void of emotional and nutritional content.
Based on a nonfiction book of the same name, Fast Food Nation ultimately fails because it doesn't quite know what it's trying to do. Filmed in a style that feels very organic, Linklater is attempting to blur his cinematic world with that of reality-where his fictionalized "Mickey's" burger joint could easily pass for the local McDonalds or Taco Bell. This realist approach is juxtaposed against the fictionalized characters that artificially inhabit the playing field. To put it bluntly, it's a mixture that just doesn't work. Several sub-stories are told in conjunction with each other, each poorly paced and each not given the appropriate attention it deserves. For instance, Greg Kinnear's blissfully ignorant fast food marketing executive is completely dropped halfway through the film. This unevenness not only feels awkward, it stilts the narrative structure. If the character is so unimportant that he can just disappear, why should we care? The other stories get similar treatment, complete with stereotypical teenage miscreants and an overly aggressive meat packing foreman that preys upon the immigrants that work there. The moments of genuine emotion-such as Catalina Sandino Moreno's performance as a distraught migrant wife-are too few and far between. The rest of the movie is clumsily ground together with odd cameos that, while somewhat interesting, are not smoothly congealed into the rest of the recipe.
By the time Linklater gives us his grand finalean uncensored, raw look at the killing floor of a meat packing plant-we get the feeling that the film is less concerned about stirring genuine emotions and more interested in manipulatively gutting the feelings out of us. If we can watch such bovine terror, than darn it, we should feel something! Yet, there is no connection to what we are seeing. It's a spectacle, stuffing us with a bombardment of grotesque images that ineffectually force us to react-gross, but ultimately hollow. And in that respect, ironically, Fast Food Nation is very much like the pre-made meals it claims to despisesomewhat visually appetizing, but ultimately void of emotional and nutritional content.
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