Machete Is Mashitty

When you go to a movie called Machete, you should probably do so with relatively reduced expectations. Which I did, but even by the low brow measuring stick which I applied to Robert Rodriguez's latest ode to grindhouse cinema, Machete falls well short. In fact, almost stunningly so.

Obviously, a movie based on a fake trailer from the Rodriguez/Tarantino double feature, Grindhouse in 2007 isn't efforting to be Citizen Kane. But shouldn't a movie that focuses on the very real issue of illegal immigration be about more than separating heads and limbs from their bodies?

As the titular title character, Danny Trejo is perfectly cast. The 67 year old Mexican-American actor has the body of Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler, and a face to match. In fact, Trejo's expressive, craggy mug looks like he wore it on the bottom of his shoe for every one of his sexagenarian years. And I mean that as a compliment.

Trejo, an ex-con and real life tough guy, has been working on the edges of Hollywood for nearly 30 years now, and it's great to see him get the chance to carry his own picture. I only wish Rodriguez had given him something more to work with.

You would think that a movie with explosions, extreme violence, and gratuitous nudity would at least be distracting. You would be wrong. I actually fought back the urge to nap while sitting in my seat. And to tell you the truth, it would have been time better spent.

The plot--such that it is--is centered around a former Mexican Federale (Trejo), who takes a job as a hit man bent on assassinating a Texas State Senator (Robert DeNiro, in his worst performance since Rocky And Bullwinkle--for real) who's brutal illegal immigration policy...oh, never mind. Going into the basic synopsis of the film will probably make it sound a whole lot better than it actually is.

Make no mistake, this is junk. Eclectically cast, stylishly lensed junk. But junk nonetheless.

I have to say, that I don't know why I expect anything more from Rodriguez. While he may be an endlessly resourceful filmmaker with an agreeably rough-and-ready directing style, he is so deliberately and relentlessly immature that he has become impossible to take seriously.

Rodriguez broke onto the scene in 1992 with his Spanish language actioner, El Mariachi, which he made for $7,000 but looks like it cost about 1,000 times that. Critics and film goers were rightly impressed by the then 24 year old director.

However, look at the movies he has made since:

Desperado, From Dusk 'Til Dawn, The Faculty, The Spy Kids series, Once Upon A Time In Mexico, Sin City, Sharkboy And Lava Girl, Planet Terror, and now, Machete.

While all these movies have a certain ragged charm, are any of them really all that good?

Sure, Desperado is pretty fun, Once Upon A Time has a great Johnny Depp performance, and Sin City is redeemed by the extraordinary work of Mickey Rourke. But even these movies come with a catch. All three are disposable and overstuffed. They all feel like a bit of a lark. As do all of Rodriguez's movies. He doesn't seem to take his subjects seriously, so why should you?

The closest thing to an exception among his oeuvre is the first 2/3 of From Dusk 'Til Dawn. For about 70 minutes, Dawn is about two hard-ass criminal brothers (George Clooney and Tarantino) until it devolves with a wild left turn into a south of the border vampire flick. And that's a shame, because for a while there actually appears to be something at stake (no pun intended). Tarantino gives his by far best performance on film as the psycopathic sibling while Clooney does a great job playing against type. There is a very real tension and sense of danger when the brothers kidnap Harvey Keitel and his two children. Then they enter a bar, Salma Hayek goes from stripper to bloodsucker, and the whole enterprise goes from sharp to stupid.

And that boys and girls, is the last time Rodriguez even tried to make a "real" movie.

Unfortunately, his good buddy Tarantino has caught the same disease. Every movie that Tarantino has made since Jackie Brown (a real step forward), has been marked by a continual regression. Both of them are essentially making better versions of crappy, low budget, midnight drive-in movies that they enjoyed as a kid. They are both selling themselves short.

Tarantino gets away with it more due to superior talent as a director and especially, as a writer. While Kill Bill 1&2, Death Proof, and Inglourious Basterds are basically superior cover versions of guilty pleasures from his youth, Tarantino's dialogue and ability to create a level of danger and unpredictability are resources that Rodriguez lacks. In spades.

The sad thing is that I think these are actually the movies that Rodriguez wants to make. Which is entirely depressing. He keeps his movies under budget (I swear, if you gave this guy a camera and a roll of duct tape he could produce a 90 minute feature in 48 hours), they make money, and he is therefore beholden to no one.

Which sounds great until you look at the results. It's not just what he chooses to make but how he chooses to makes it. From an intellectual perspective, his film making is no more thoughtful than that of Michael Bay.

They both make movies full of action that are targeted squarely at 15 year old boys. I'm not saying that Rodriguez is a worse director than Bay (I mean , who is?), only that they are both pretty much shooting for the same mark. Rodriguez's movies are scruffier and far less pretentious than Bay's, and they are a little smarter, but only just.

I long ago gave up on the idea of Bay ever making a "real" movie. After seeing Machete yesterday, I have now accepted the same defeat with regards to Rodriguez.

I guess it turns out that I like the "idea" of Robert Rodriguez a whole lot more than I do the reality of Robert Rodriguez.

Cue the bugle boy for the playing of "Taps."

Sumo-Pop
September 5, 2010