Film

Short Cuts - Forgotten Gems: Bad Boy Bubby (1993)

Bubby is 35 years old. He has lived in a grimy bunker like apartment all his life. His only companions are a feral cat, and his fanatical mother. Dictatorial and overbearing, this supposed parent treats her son horribly, making outrageous demands and ridiculous rules. Of course, with her boy now a man, she also benefits of his "matured" sexuality. Bubby cannot escape his claustrophobic world. Mother has told him that the air outside is contaminated and if the poison doesn't get him, Jesus will. So Bubby stays inside, waiting for the next round of reprobate behavior. One day, a stranger comes knocking at the door. It turns out to be Bubby's long lost father. Confused and scared, Bubby's behavior turns even more twisted, and it's not long before he has dealt with his family issues, and is off on his own. And the world turns out to be a strange and savage place for our stifled simpleton.

You have never seen a movie quite like Bad Boy Bubby. No David Lynchian surrealscape or David Cronenberg psychosexual splatter job can compare to the stellar, sinister magic director Rolf De Heer creates in this amazing masterpiece. Borrowing from his demented brothers in arms, De Heer uses many recognizable reference points to define a unique style and vision all his own. By fashioning experimental elements into a strong focus on character and narrative, the filmmaker takes us on a literal journey from Hell to Heaven. As much a coming of age as it is a mediation on the pitfalls of maturity, this is a Thomas Pynchon novel typed onto celluloid, a complex narrative where every scene has several meanings, and differing layers diverge and reform to create something wholly original and inspired with each configuration. It may be difficult to watch at first, and does deal with subjects and people that we'd never imagine tolerating, let alone taking an interest in. But somehow, with all the vileness and the vitality on hand, De Heer and his stellar cast manage to concoct a modern classic.

Part of the reason why Bad Boy Bubby works so well is its bravery. Obviously a product of its time – 1993 – and its place – Australia (Hollywood wouldn't have touched this script with a script doctors glove soaked in antibiotics), De Heer pushes the limits of acceptable cinematic behavior from the very first series of shots. Using nudity as a symbol for both defenselessness and perversion, and playing simultaneously with the notions of neglect and incest, it's hard to get a handle on what the film is offering. It's almost like a sideshow, where freaks are paraded out for our amusement and morbid curiosity. Then slowly, as the unreal situations and circumstances become more and more agonizing, De Heer sets up his first stroke of storytelling genius.

We know Bubby is a prisoner in his hovel of a home, brainwashed into believing the world beyond the front door is filled with poisoned air, and that his mother is the only solace, physical or otherwise, he will ever require. Her overbearing browbeating has lead Bubby to become a kind of human Rosetta Stone, recording and reinterpreting everything around him as it passes through his orphaned, underdeveloped mind. So by the time the long lost – but equally bullying – father reappears, we are just as desperate as Bubby. We want to see what lies beyond that massive, ironclad apartment door. And when he does, Bad Boy Bubby becomes yet another experience all together.

Bad Boy Bubby's second "movement" is magically aimless, a series of vignettes and experiences as seen through the eyes – and most importantly, heard through the ears – of our lead character. The symphonic analogy is quite fitting here, as De Heer relies on music so frequently, it becomes a character in the film. Gorgeous organ solos, brash, yet equally atmospheric bagpipes, or the standard sonic boom of rock and roll, all chime in like harmonic Greek Choruses to remind us of our protagonist's naiveté and innocence. Sound literally colors the world around Bubby. He is also filled with a lot of foul ideas, facets that have to be purged and tamed like the ferocity of an undomesticated animal. Music, in the film, does have the proverbial charms to soothe this savage, and little by little, note by note, the melodiousness sinks down inside, and starts the process of reviving Bubby's soul.

In what has to be one of the most amazing third acts ever created, Bubby's distress and disposition finally come full circle, able to be used and employed for both beneficial, and baneful purposes. That he becomes a rock star, and a kind of spiritual medium for the physically handicapped, may seem a bit pat (both situations seem fanciful and outside Bubby's realm of existence), but De Heer makes them work because of the fantastic foundation he's laid before. Throughout the course of the film, we've wondered how Bubby will fend for himself, as well as why fate allowed him to suffer so. The answer comes in his opposing abilities. He can use his incredible rage to vent a kind of industrial, cathartic punk rock. And he can use his naive sweetness and his non-jaded nature to speak with those whose voices are lost to "normal" people. All of this adds up to a profound and deeply moving cinematic experience.

But there is more to it than simple storytelling. The reasons for Bad Boy Bubby's majesty are indeed many. First and foremost, the performance by Nicholas Hope is flat out extraordinary. Looking like a more mannered Hugo Weaving (or a more insane Douglas Bradley), and mimicking many of the people he meets in the movie, Bubby is a wholly original creation, an intricate and infected innocent who may be smarter - or a lot dumber - than he appears. There are moments of high comedy in Hope's interpretation, as well as deep, deep sadness. That we can get behind and support someone like Bubby, who seems simultaneously antisocial and empathetic, is as much a commendation of De Heer's script as it is praise for Hope's performance. This is the very definition of a tour de force.

So is De Heer's direction. From the ideas floating around inside, to the way in which he chooses to illustrate them, Bad Boy Bubby brims with untold imagination. This is not just a narrative centering on mental/physical/ sexual abuse and bad parenting – it is also a discussion of God, a look at celebrity, a critique on aging and a swipe at social standards. This is a dense, dissertation of a film, a multifaceted test that offers something surprising with each and every viewing. This is the kind of movie one gets lost in, mesmerized by what they see and enraptured by what they hear. From its ominous beginnings to its optimistic end, Bad Boy Bubby retains its integrity and its power. This is one of the lost gems of world cinema.

To be a migrant worker in America is to relearn the basic skills of living. Imagine doing that in your 60s and 70s, when you thought you'd be retired.


Nomadland: Surviving America in the Twenty-First Century

Publisher: W. W. Norton
Author: Jessica Bruder
Publication date: 2017-09
Amazon

There's been much hand-wringing over the state of the American economy in recent years. After the 2008 financial crisis upended middle-class families, we now live with regular media reports of recovery and growth -- as well as rising inequality and decreased social mobility. We ponder what kind of future we're creating for our children, while generally failing to consider who has already fallen between the gaps.

Keep reading... Show less
7

Very few of their peers surpass Eurythmics in terms of artistic vision, musicianship, songwriting, and creative audacity. This is the history of the seminal new wave group

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame nominating committee's yearly announcement of the latest batch of potential inductees always generates the same reaction: a combination of sputtering outrage by fans of those deserving artists who've been shunned, and jubilation by fans of those who made the cut. The annual debate over the list of nominees is as inevitable as the announcement itself.

Keep reading... Show less

Barry Lyndon suggests that all violence—wars, duels, boxing, and the like—is nothing more than subterfuge for masculine insecurities and romantic adolescent notions, which in many ways come down to one and the same thing.

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) crystalizes a rather nocturnal view of heterosexual, white masculinity that pervades much of Stanley Kubrick's films: after slithering from the primordial slime, we jockey for position in ceaseless turf wars over land, money, and women. Those wielding the largest bone/weapon claim the spoils. Despite our self-delusions about transcending our simian stirrings through our advanced technology and knowledge, we remain mired in our ancestral origins of brute force and domination—brilliantly condensed by Kubrick in one of the most famous cuts in cinematic history: a twirling bone ascends into the air only to cut to a graphic match of a space station. Ancient and modern technology collapse into a common denominator of possession, violence, and war.

Keep reading... Show less
10

This book offers a poignant and jarring reminder not just of the resilience of the human spirit, but also of its ability to seek solace in the materiality of one's present.

Marcelino Truong launched his autobiographical account of growing up in Saigon during the Vietnam War with the acclaimed graphic novel Such a Lovely Little War: Saigon 1961-63, originally published in French in 2012 and in English translation in 2016. That book concluded with his family's permanent relocation to London, England, as the chaos and bloodshed back home intensified.

Now Truong continues the tale with Saigon Calling: London 1963-75 (originally published in French in 2015), which follows the experiences of his family after they seek refuge in Europe. It offers a poignant illustration of what life was like for a family of refugees from the war, and from the perspective of young children (granted, Truong's family were a privileged and upper class set of refugees, well-connected with South Vietnamese and European elites). While relatives and friends struggle to survive amid the bombs and street warfare of Vietnam, the displaced narrator and his siblings find their attention consumed by the latest fashion and music trends in London. The book offers a poignant and jarring reminder not just of the resilience of the human spirit, but also of its ability to seek solace in the materiality of one's present.

Keep reading... Show less
8

Canadian soul singer Elise LeGrow shines on her impressive interpretation of Fontella Bass' classic track "Rescue Me".

Canadian soul singer Elise LeGrow pays tribute to the classic Chicago label Chess Records on her new album Playing Chess, which was produced by Steve Greenberg, Mike Mangini, and the legendary Betty Wright. Unlike many covers records, LeGrow and her team of musicians aimed to make new artistic statements with these songs as they stripped down the arrangements to feature leaner and modern interpretations. The clean and unfussy sound allows LeGrow's superb voice to have more room to roam. Meanwhile, these classic tunes take on new life when shown through LeGrow's lens.

Keep reading... Show less
Pop Ten
Mixed Media
PM Picks

© 1999-2017 Popmatters.com. All rights reserved.
Popmatters is wholly independently owned and operated.

rating-image