Mark Wahlberg Wants to Rape and/or Kill You

Mel Gibson's latest, 'Flight Risk,' starring Marky Mark, is dumb, weird, and fun.

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Lionsgate

Since “guy who reviews under-the-radar reactionary movies” is fast becoming my brand, I reviewed Mel Gibson’s new movie, Flight Risk, for GQ. They asked me to give it a look specifically in light of Gibson being named, alongside Sylvester Stallone and Jon Voight, to Donald Trump’s new council of “Special Ambassadors to Hollywood.”

Or maybe they’re called “special envoys?” Trump doesn’t seem too clear on the details, but you get it. My favorite part of all this is that Frank Stallone has been a slavering MAGA guy for the better part of a decade and Sly was “don’t ask me about politics” guy until about eight seconds ago and still got the nod over his brother.

Anyway, Flight Risk.

To make a long story short, Mel Gibson stands, in my mind, as a general rebuke to the old adage that conservatives can’t make great art, for better or worse. Flight Risk is no Braveheart or even Apocalypto (it cost a fraction of those, for one thing) but it once again proves that Gibson (and this also seems true of Stallone) is kind of an idiot savant when it comes to archetypes and dramatic pacing. The sad truth is that you can have bad politics or maybe even be a weird bigot and still understand story structure.

Like most of Gibson’s directorial output, Flight Risk does also have undercurrents of sexual weirdness:

Mark Wahlberg plays the impostor pilot, at first doing an over-the-top howdy y’all accent, but then once he’s been exposed turning back into a vaguely New Yorky version of normal Wahlberg for maximum menace. Wahlberg’s character seems to want to sexually assault Winston and Madolyn as much as he wants to kill them, with prison rape jokes and threats throughout. When Madolyn offers Wahlberg’s character a deal for cooperating at one point, she says, “Otherwise you’ll spend your whole time in prison looking over your shoulder.”

To which he responds, “I’ve already been to prison, and I was looking over my shoulder the whole time, if ya know whatta mean. My boy Winny knows what I’m talkin’ about.”

He means having sex! Male-on-male prison sex! Which he… likes? At other points, he suggests being suicidal. The character is kind of hard to pin down, but the easy takeaway is that he’s bad. Irredeemably bad.

…but the movie is also, like most of Gibson’s directorial output, hopelessly watchable. It’s a silly, low-stakes action movie, but also an enjoyable, easy watch for 90 minutes. Does it make me feel bad to praise a movie by a weirdo, or does enjoying it make me think Mel Gibson is less of a weirdo? Eh, not really.

Understanding conservatism as a whole requires a recognition that “conservatives can’t make good art” was mostly just something liberals said to make themselves feel good. A more accurate adage might go something like “conservatives are geniuses at making mid art” – which in turn translates shockingly well to movies like Flight Risk and Rambo. The root of all conservatism, in fact, might be the desire for simple stories (“white hat good, black hat bad,” “victim actually deserved it,” etc).

Which is why it’s perhaps no coincidence that conservatism’s most successful purveyors (Ronald Reagan and his imitator, Donald Trump, but also Steve Bannon, et. al) come from the world of B-movies and reality TV. Is there anything that makes Trump Trump more than a flair for cheap theatrics?

That conservatives can and do make, at the very least, fun entertainment and compelling yarns, is something we probably need to acknowledge if we’re ever going to compete with them. That also involves acknowledging a few related things, like the limits of art-as-a-political-statement, and that you’re never going to win hearts and minds by convincing people not to enjoy simple stories.

Flight Risk: it’s stupid. It’s weird. It’s fun. Go see it! Or don’t.

Top Chef is Back! Almost!

NBC Universal

Set your calendars, the show is returning March 13th. Naturally I will be doing Power Rankings. Whatever happens in the world, it’s reassuring to know that we can still argue over whether aerated uni foam gave the beef saddle unexpected lightness or if it was just derivative molecular hackwork. Hey, Dipshit! 2006 called, it wants its elevated cassoulet back!

This season will be set in Canada, as you can see from the picture above. Does that sign say “Peameal Bacon?” What in God’s name is that? They’re making meals, from pee??? Wow, you Canucks are twisted.

This also reminds me of a joke I heard in middle school. Two Canadians are playing 20 questions. First Canadian asks, “Is it… edible?”

Second Canadian pauses. “…Kind of.”

First Canadian: “Is it… moose cock?”

Second Canadian: “Damn, how do you always get it so fast?”

I kid. I love Canada. They have so many things I envy — decent healthcare. A flag with a leaf on it. Poutine. Plus, Gail Simmons is from there and she is a delight, something I’m sure will be referenced at least once an episode (not complaining!).

This season’s episodes will be an hour and 15 minutes, which is 15 minutes shorter than last season’s episodes. I get to watch them commercial free (screener privilege) so they’re shorter for me, but do I think shorter was the right play. Last season’s episodes had too much room for superfluous stuff. Like Chef Danny saying “Let’s gooo” or “that’s facts, fam” more times.

Mini Reviews

We Live In Time (various platforms)

We Laugh In Jackets (A24)

Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield star in this non-linear weepie from director John Crowley and writer Nick Payne. Garfield plays a divorço (is there a male version of “divorcée?”) Weetabix sales rep who falls for an up-and-coming chef played by Florence Pugh after she hits him with her car. Most of the film, which jumps around in time, takes place after Pugh’s character is diagnosed with cancer.

I was mostly interested in this one because of the cast and because Crowley directed Brooklyn, a movie I love deeply. But as my wife said, most of it was just an incredibly accurate and realistic depiction of what it would be like to experience your biggest fears. It was tastefully done, beautifully acted, and totally immersive, but mostly only in the worst ways. Some movies hurt so good, but this one kind of just hurt. It was not an edifying experience, I was mostly just glad it was over! Watching a loved one battle cancer is not an experience I was in a hurry to relive.

This is the Tom Green Documentary (free on Prime Video)

I’d like to think interviewing Tom Green for my oral history of Freddy Got Fingered a few years ago gave him the idea to make a documentary about his own career, but even if that’s not true at all I’m grateful it exists anyway. Yes, it’s a documentary about Tom Green directed by Tom Green. It’s natural to be wary of anyone writing their own career retrospective, but the flip side of that is that if anyone knows and has access to the right people to interview for a Tom Green career retrospective, it’s Tom Green (which I say in my capacity as someone who also tried it).

Green interviews some of the same people I did and lots I didn’t, in service of telling the same basic story — one which I still find compelling: how a goofball from the Canadian suburbs managed to score a record deal, release a hit single, and become arguably the biggest TV star in the world before he turned 25. All while doing comedy that involved desecrating cow skulls and literally jacking off horses. (“…What do you call it?”)

I’ve been banging the drum that Freddy Got Fingered is an iconoclastic punk-art masterpiece for probably 15 years now, but the craziest part of the story might be that it came out after Green’s fame had arguably peaked. In fact, the best explanation for why it was so reviled when it came out was the simple fact that between his cancer, the movie, and getting fake-married to Drew Barrymore live on SNL, Green was kind of overexposed at the time. It’s easy to hate any celebrity you’re sick of seeing, that’s human nature. So the movie became a famous bomb, and between that and trying to make and promote it while recovering from cancer, Green ended up shutting down his MTV show to take a break (and give the world a break, from him). MTV filled his empty slot with Jackass, Green settled into a much less intense level of fame, and the rest is history.

In my own piece, I covered the way the Tom Green Show was a clear progenitor of Jackass (and both were part of the larger overlap between physical stunt comedy and skate videos that was happening at the time), but even I hadn’t realized the transition was quite that seamless. (I’m also not giving myself credit for being the first to notice). Another aspect of the story that Green highlights in the doc is, through his web show, essentially giving Joe Rogan the idea to do a podcast. Eric Andre also gives Green props for inspiring his love of destroying sets. Green manages to take credit for being influential without it coming off too much like an old man preaching about the good old days.

Anyway, it’s a fun watch, for reasons both nostalgic and historical. The thing that comedians and joke writers and comedic dabblers of all stripes obsess over most of all, I would argue, are jokes that don’t seem to follow a traditional formula. Comedy is based on surprise, but it’s also predictable in a way. It almost always follows a recognizable pattern or format (knock knock, didja ever notice, women be shoppin, etc). I think the reason so many comedy lovers love Tom Green so much is that even watching his old stuff now, I find myself laughing at bits for reasons I can’t explain or in spite of consciously thinking that whatever he’s doing absolutely shouldn’t make me laugh. It’s always almost an even split between hack stuff that I think shouldn’t work on me but does, and indescribable absurdist bits that make me laugh for reasons I can’t fathom.

Green seemed to be consciously doing this, which takes someone cocky enough to think he could do something new, and cocky enough to risk bombing if it didn’t work out (which Green often did). There’s probably a lesson in that. Now that I’m a father, I think that if there’s one thing I could inculcate in my kids, ambition-wise, it’s the basic idea that people are always going to remember your hits better than your whiffs. So when in doubt just go for it. At the very least, people will respect you for trying. Or maybe they won’t, but in that case, fuck ‘em.

Or hey, maybe I just happened to be the right age at the right time for Tom Green to forever imprint on my soft little brain. All I know is that I’ll probably remember “Slut Mobile” until I’m dead and cold. I also think “Cow Brain Boat” might be the most insane comedy bit of the last 30 years.