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Giuseppe Andrews' Schoof

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Saturday, Mar 1, 2008


All great auteurs, no matter the era, find themselves dabbling in science fiction at least once in their career. Lang had Metropolis. Godard gave us Alphaville. Kubrick cemented his reputation with the resplendent 2001: A Space Odyssey while Truffaut took Ray Bradbury’s allegorical classic and turned it into his own version of Fahrenheit 451. The reasons behind such genre experimentation are obvious - speculative cinema is based in ideas, images, and the careful consideration of both. It’s the very set-up that a moviemaking maverick yearns for. It tests not only their storytelling mantle, but the very limits of their imagination. Post-millennial movie god Giuseppe Andrews understands this all too well. That’s why Schoof, his look at a world gone insane under an evil alien influence, resonates as yet another in his growing list of trailer park masterworks.


As our narrator tells us, a force named Schoof began its rampage of Earth in a slow, subtle manner. First, her wheelchair bound grandfather began endlessly circling the parking lot outside his mobile home. Next, her mother and father have a senseless fight over whether or not there are cowboys in their vacuum. Brother is bonkers, climbing palm trees in his underwear and tirelessly jumping over Christmas tress. And another neighbor believes he is being chased by a humongous hamster. As situations in society deteriorate, the local news picks up on the story. They show a man having an affair with a children’s doll, and a homeless philosopher mumbling about the apocalypse… or maybe not. In the end, it will take a scientist, a willing test subject, and a group choral, to save the galaxy.



Staying in the crazed, comedic vein he firmly established with Orzo, Andrews’ amazing Schoof is like It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World meshed with Invasion of the Body Snatchers. It’s like a movie long version of the scene in Wild at Heart where Freddie Jones offers his high pitched warning about how “pigeons spread diseases”. Utilizing a Hellsapoppin style to place us directly into the middle of a worldwide meltdown, it’s clear that, as his interests grow, so does this filmmaker’s style. Gone are the static shots where characters merely recite dialogue directly into the camera. In their place are ludicrous action scenes, complex tracking shots, and a much greater emphasis on character interaction.


Indeed, Schoof is one of the few Andrews’ films that provides a cohesive family unit. Vietnam Ron and Karen Bo Baron are the squabbling marrieds, their crackerjack conversations a study in marital strife. The director and his partner, Marybeth Spychalski, are the offspring, and they provide a lot of the visual humor. If he’s anything, Andrews is brave. He will gladly appear partially nude as long as it satisfies a cinematic ends - be it comedy, or something more complicated. Spychalski has been the ‘staright man’ in so many of these movies that it’s great to see her branch out into the more surreal and strange elements of the narrative. With the growing presence of Sir George Bigfoot, Tommy Salami, and the iconic Ed, along with returning superstars such as Ron, Walt Dongo, and Miles Dougal, this is one of the best Andrews casts ever.



And just when you thought he couldn’t surprise you with his unsane concepts, along comes this story’s psycho sci-fi angle. Granted, the extraterrestrial take-over is gloriously goofy most of the time (they are after maple syrup, supposedly), but it does allow for a more freaked out free form flow to the events. Similarly, by making the resulting malady personal and individual, Andrews gives his performers room to expand. There’s a clear parallel here - as with many of his movies, Schoof clearly reflects the growing ludicrousness of society, a situation that sees any issue blown way out of proportion before a single rational thought is applied. In the last act scientist character, a man of intelligence and logic, we get the veiled attempt at redemption - and the resulting laugh when even he gives up on the brain scrambling signal.


But make no mistake - this is not some outsider artist’s take on Stephen King’s Cell or the recent indie fright flick The Signal. Instead, Schoof is meant as a gagfest first and foremost. Once you get beyond the shoot from the hip comic coating, however, there are intriguing elements o’plenty. What other moviemaker today would offer up abortion (including the near blasphemous image of a blood stained hanger), cannibalism, adultery, and rectal dysfunction as part of an interplanetary crisis. Clearly, the big picture concerns of one’s place within the cosmos are being regularly eclipsed by the seven deadly sins - plus five. If anything, this is Schoof‘s most important message…and it’s most disturbing.



Then there is the ending - one of the most engaging and inventive the director has ever created. Without giving much away, it utilizes another Andrews singalong classic to suggest - Life of Brian style - that any tragedy can be skirted or diverted by a little literal human race harmony. It’s a treat, the kind of capper that keeps a fan coming back for more. It’s also an indication that Andrews is in full command of the cinematic medium. The language is no longer foreign to him. Instead, he’s so fluent he can mess with it all he wants - be it a bizarre set of dream sequences, or a Mitch Miller musical moment.


As he continues to expand as a visionary, as his pallet of potential premises reaches well toward infinity, Giuseppe Andrews continues to amaze and inspire. Over the course of the last few months, he’s given us the amazing Americano Trilogy, the stellar Garbanzo Gas, and the full blown laugher Orzo. Now, he readily walks into the realm of the unknown and the fantastical to realize even more of his remarkable creative aims. Schoof doesn’t purport to have any futuristic insights, or pretend to prophesize the shape of things to come. As with all the films in this director’s career defining oeuvre, we are witnessing the marginalized and the fringe falling even further outside the bonds of normalcy. That someone champions their cause is reason enough to love this man’s work. That said films stand as works of unique, underground art is the icing on the cinematic cake.


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