 Things Change. Case in point: long-running UK Heavy Metal periodical Kerrang! Perusing a recent issue of the "mighty" K!, I found, to my depression, the publication's choice of "best music" featured only ONE metal release & that being a terminally dull water-treading Pantera effort with some exploding (??) fool on the cover. As K! so The Dukes Of Hazzard - however, I'd always disliked Dukes - so, this '98 come-back feature-length tribute (???) came as a Big Surprise. If memory serves correct (usually doesn't) The Dead Kennedys wrote a toon about the original series (featured on either "Frankenchrist" or "Bedtime For Democracy"; who cares??) that attempted to define the "appeal" (ho! ho!) of said show - it wasn't very complimentary (u know what these laughfree left-wingers are like...) yet presented a lucid condensation of Dukeian Thematics: this WAS a magnet for folks who'd (later) be unfairly smeared via derogatory terms such as "macho", "redneck", even "idiot". Red Car that made a lot of noise, brew-sinkin' "good old boys", devil may care attitude but deep down the very Salt Of The Earth - "Yee-Haaww", "Shee-itt" & all that. What was this film ABOUT? It matters little - Hazzard involves symbols, ideas that remain eternal - like a long visual salute to some empty slogan we thought sounded really good but meant f****** nothing. A film such as this transcends criticism & as such MUST be viewed in a manner that shows respect for what it embodies. This is not to be experienced according to routine mores; sit down, be quiet, watch the whole thing in chronological order - NO - get up, turn it off periodically, have a conversation, "view" with your head pointing away from the screen. In other words, appreciate & "understand" Hazzard in anything but a conformist adoption of "normal" film/spectator roles. There's a bikini carwash as shapely young women, decapitated by the camera, press immaculate mid-sections against wet glass, an "evil" gang-woman seductively consuming sushi, a strikingly attractive "punk-girl" with coloured hair & perforated nose... The "old cast" COULD be here - if I knew what they looked like - & I can make witness to the presence of the original ballbustin', freewheelin', long-hair flingin', bosom bouncin' main-gal, lookin' as if the years have been VERY kind; as good as anything else in a skin-tight pair of rope-belted denims. A truly remarkable essay in Trash Film narrative, cunningly disguised as a nowhere Movie Of The Week off-season filler. Spread the word... You may read another review, submit your own, or return home. |
