[[link removed]]

PORTSIDE CULTURE

REPO MAN AT 40: A JOURNEY DEEP INTO THE HEART OF LA PUNK IN THE AGE
OF REAGAN  
[[link removed]]


 

Billy J Stratton
May 10, 2024
Hollywood Progressive
[[link removed]]

*
[[link removed]]
*
[[link removed]]
*
*
[[link removed]]

_ Set against the corrupt, soulless “greed is good” (or was it
greed is god?) era of Reaganomics, the punk characters of Repo Man
consist of cynical suburban youth... _

Repo Man Film Poster 1984, Great Big Canvas

 

Alex Cox’ [[link removed]]s wildly
entertaining take on American culture in the atomic age, _Repo Man_
[[link removed]], had its
40th anniversary recently. With this milestone and the announcement
of a sequel currently in development
[[link removed]],
it seems high time to revisit this underground classic. Cox’s
marvelously bizarre film is the product of a vision honed as a student
in UCLA’s film program, powered by unique narrative frame provided
by a friend who worked as repo-man and took him on a few jobs.

As Roger Ebert would write in a review from 1984
[[link removed]], “this is the
kind of movie that baffles Hollywood, because it isn’t made from any
known formula and doesn't follow the rules.” Adding context to these
observations, Sam McPheeters
[[link removed]], in “A Lattice of
Coincidence,” included with the 2013 Criterion Collection edition
[[link removed]], describes _Repo
Man_ as_ _“an apocalypse tale with no doomsday, a punk movie with
no concert, a science fiction story with less than ten seconds of
aliens.”

The qualities Ebert and McPheeters so appreciate in _Repo Man _are
due in no small measure to the iconoclastic edge Cox infused into the
story through the inspiration of a script for a short film titled,
“Leather Rubbernecks,” written by a punk friend, Dick Rude
[[link removed]]—also cast in the
role of Duke, the film’s_ _lead hooligan and frenemy of Otto
(Emilio Estevez [[link removed]]), the
punk-turned-repo man lead.

_Repo Man_’s wild combination of apocalyptic tale, sci-fi,
postmodernism and punk sensibility were fused in a story Rude
describes in an interview also included in the Criterion edition, as
“punk rock meets science fiction in Ronald Reagan’s house.” The
crafty merging of such themes, fueled by the anti-establishment sonic
mayhem reverberating from the punk scene of Southern California in the
early 80s, helped cement the film’s cult status.

The frenetic riffs and caustic lyrics blasting from punk bands
including Black Flag [[link removed]], Circle Jerks
[[link removed]], The Plugz
[[link removed]], Suicidal
Tendencies [[link removed]] and FEAR
[[link removed]] carried a menace and chaotic urgency,
tempered by a humorous irreverence that brilliantly complimented the
film’s apocalyptic framing. With songs from these bands featured on
the soundtrack [[link removed]], the
SoCal punk scene and its spirit of defiance rise to the forefront of
the story. The result is a film that unifies an array of madcap
narrative threads with the shady profession of automobile
repossession, as if with duct tape.

This unexpected merging of themes is initiated even before the
film’s opening scene through the title sequence, whereby a route is
traced on a radium green roadmap
[[link removed]] from Los Alamos, New
Mexico, across Arizona, and into California. It’s set to the driving
guitar of the _Repo Man _theme
[[link removed]], born of
a collaboration between punk icons
[[link removed]] Iggy
Pop
[[link removed]] and Steve
Jones
[[link removed]].
The clever use of these cinematic elements, accompanied by the iconic
musical theme, serve as a sobering reminder of the radioactive
contamination of large swathes of the American West, including
the lands of several Native Nations
[[link removed]]

The synthesis of the film’s diverse storytelling elements is
displayed in the opening sequence,  featuring a 1964 Chevy Malibu.
The car is driven by a screwball scientist named J. Frank Parnell,
rendered impeccably by Fox Harris
[[link removed]], and picks up where the map
left off just west of Needles, California.

Here we find Parnell being pulled over by a motorcycle cop along a
lonely stretch of highway that cuts through the Mojave Desert—“bat
country [[link removed]]” as Hunter S.
Thompson famously referred to this liminal region in _Fear and
Loathing in Las Vegas_. The car’s New Mexico plates, 127 GBH—gives
a nod to the British street punk
[[link removed]] band, GBH
[[link removed]]—another
hint to its dubious origins.

The danger insinuated by these details is dramatically revealed when
the officer inexplicably asks, “whatcha got in the trunk?” Parnell
replies, “Oh, you don’t wanna look in there
[[link removed]].” Proceeding with a
search, the officer opens the trunk and is vaporized in a flash of
blazing white light. His smoldering motorcycle boots are all that
remain as the Malibu lurches back onto the road. With Parnell’s
mysteriously lethal cargo now evident, his aura of kookiness,
agitation, and paranoia is given a captivating source.

The Malibu’s origins enhance the mystery evoked in this scene,
teasing at connections to Los Alamos and Roswell
[[link removed]]. Although
Los Alamos has become even more well-known as the site of the
Manhattan Project that produced the first atomic bomb
[[link removed]] through the wild
success of Christopher Nolan’s _Oppenheimer_
[[link removed]],
the latter holds a central place in UFO lore as the site, believed by
some, of a 1947 UFO crash
[[link removed]] in
which the bodies of extraterrestrials were recovered by the U.S.
military, conjuring _X-Files_
[[link removed]]-type conspiracies.

Aside from the reveling in the weird and bizarre, Cox seems to also be
utilizing such allusions to direct viewers’ attention to the
wreckage of the Cold War, substantiating President Eisenhower’s
[[link removed]] dire
warnings about the “potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced
power” within the military-industrial complex
[[link removed]]. By 1984, this potential
had become a terrifying reality, one that has grown ever more
disastrous since
[[link removed]].

As such, _Repo Man_’s exultation of B-movie sci-fi elements serves
as a counter to the grim Cold War legacy from which it gathers
meaning, providing an artistic outlet for social commentary and public
dissent. For many youth of the 80s, the frenzied energy and outlandish
irreverence of punk music served a similar function
[[link removed]] in
confronting the despair and hopelessness of such harsh realities.

The opening’s lonesome desert setting also underscores the
centrality of the automobile to Cox’s cinematic vision, with
elements of the story evocative of the “road movie
[[link removed]].” But as Ebert
remarked, _Repo Man _is not reliant upon such narrative formulas.

As Sheri Linden, writing_ _on the Criterion release
[[link removed]],
further notes, “it wouldn’t be wrong to call “Repo Man” a car
movie, but it would be an understatement as sly as some of the
film’s ultra-quotable dialogue.” Cox undermines these familiar
formulas as he invokes them—a move that leverages familiar cinematic
tropes while utilizing their ambiguities for misdirection, and as
set-ups for the wild and profound revelations to come.

His representation of roads, thus, are evoked not as a way to some
hard-won epiphany but as substantiation of the blob-like sprawl that
made automobiles a necessity of life in Los Angeles, and the American
West generally. The creeping metropolis Los Angeles became, invoking
Richard Matheson’s story
[[link removed]], is owing to
development patterns necessitating vast networks of highways that
reached out from the metropole in all directions like grasping
tentacles. As Dewar MacLeod notes in _Kids of the Black Hole: Punk
Rock in Postsuburban California_
[[link removed]], this
spawned “the emergence of postsuburbia . . . as the spatial
expression of the stage of advanced capitalism.”

The film’s injection of punk energy is introduced through Otto and
Kevin (Zander Schloss
[[link removed]], who went on to play
bass for the Circle Jerks). Portraying post-high school dead end
misfits, audiences first encounter them as stock boys working in a
grocery store called Pik ‘n Pay
[[link removed]] that sells only
generic, white-labelled products. To Otto’s annoyance, Kevin sings
the 7-Up jingle as they stack cans of “Yellow Cling Sliced
Peaches” into a pyramid display.

The store manager, Mr. Humphries (Charles Hopkins
[[link removed]]), approaches with a security
guard (Luis Contreras [[link removed]]) in tow,
chiding Otto for being late. Otto’s disregard for his schedule
isn’t the worst of it, though, as Humphries zeroes in on what he
sees as the deeper problem, saying, “you’re not paying attention
to the way you space the cans.”

This trifling criticism underscores the mind-numbing purposelessness
of much menial labor, leading into an inane lecture about
responsibility in “these uncertain times . . .” Such empty
sentiments represent the customary rebuke establishment types have
used against young people for generations, while conveniently ignoring
their own roles in creating the very ‘uncertainty’ of which they
speak.

Otto, though, is hip to the Man’s game and aptly responds with a
good ol’ “fuck you,” before shoving an amused Kevin into the
display, bringing the peaches tumbling down. Otto tops off the
outburst with a parting gesture of contempt, giving the manager and
security guard the finger. True to form, the security guard draws his
gun—displaying the authoritarian proclivity toward the use of
excessive force in protecting the property and interests of
corporations
[[link removed]] and
the wealthy.

Kevin is fired for merely laughing at Otto’s actions as he would
have, no doubt, taken his aggressive play like a shove in a mosh pit.
Barking orders to the security guard, Humphries demands, “Luis,
throw _it_ out too.” His dehumanizing rhetoric underscores the
powerlessness of workers in a society driven by the unprincipled and
perfidious dictates of late capitalism
[[link removed]] in
which the only escape for many is in looking forward to death
[[link removed]].

These exchanges further speak to the lack of control many young people
felt over their lives in the 80s within a society seemingly organized
[[link removed]] to enrich
and empower the few
[[link removed]] at the expense
of everyone else. It’s a situation that has only worsened in the
ensuing decades
[[link removed]],
especially for women
[[link removed]] and people
of color [[link removed]].
The defiant punk ethic displayed by Otto, and others throughout the
film, serves as a means of reclaiming social agency by refusing to
become cogs in the capitalist machine.

Otto’s responses further recall the outrage expressed by the punk
band FEAR in their 1982 song, “I Don’t Care About You
[[link removed]],” dealing with the
devaluation of human life in American society. The litany of indignity
and suffering evoked by Lee Ving’s acerbic lyrics expose the callous
disregard the mainstream Christian society so often holds for the most
vulnerable, whereby those in greatest need are left to die on the
streets of a nation celebrated as the wealthiest and most powerful in
the world. Exceptionalism
[[link removed]] is
a helluva drug.

Informed by Ving’s chorus, Otto’s insubordination is transformed
into an ironic act of repudiation at the moral bankruptcy of our
society in a voice parodying the ideologies of Reagan’s America
[[link removed]] and Jerry Falwell
[[link removed]]’s
“moral majority [[link removed]]:”

I’ve seen men rollin’ drunks,
bodies in the street,
I saw a man that was sleepin’ in puke,
and a man with no legs crawling down 5th street,
trying to get something to eat!
I don’t care about you!
Oh nooo!
I don't care about you!
Fuck you!

Set against the corrupt, soulless “greed is good
[[link removed]]” (or was it greed is
god?) era of Reaganomics
[[link removed]],
the punk characters of _Repo Man_ consist of cynical suburban youth
who saw the weaponized faux-virtue and hollow patriotism for the
scheming charades they were.

One of the things that makes Cox’s anti-establishment message so
enthralling is that he is careful to avoid replicating binary systems
that reproduce an us versus them model. This becomes apparent in the
following scene where we catch up with Otto moshing amongst a group of
punks to the Circle Jerk’s song, “Coup d’état
[[link removed]]”—one of the numerous
references in the film to American military intervention abroad.

An old friend, Duke, arrives fresh out of the “slammer” wearing a
t-shirt featuring Sid Vicious
[[link removed]] under the print, “I
did it my way [[link removed]].” He
joins the fray locking onto Otto for what is known as a ‘strangle
dance’ (see, for instance, 0:12 to 0:15
[[link removed]]). The scene culminates
with Otto in bed with a mohawked punk rock girl
[[link removed]], Debbi (Jennifer
Balgobin [[link removed]]),
who asks him to fetch some beer. He returns to find Duke and Debbie
making out and leaves in disappointment.

Proclaiming a loose devotion to chaos and anarchy, Southern
Californian punks of the 80s seemed more interested in exploring
radical forms of self-expression and non-conformity over efforts to
establish any kind of permanent, cohesive in-group. Punk music and
culture, at its most basic, offered a means of escape from the
neglect, despair and privation of capitalist society rather than some
utopian enclave of doctrinaire resistance.

Even with its limitations and flaws, as one of the punk characters say
of an abandoned neighborhood used as a squat in the Penelope Spheeris
[[link removed]] 1983 film _Suburbia_
[[link removed]], it’s “the best home most
of us ever had [[link removed]].” For
punks growing up in the “fragmented metropolis” of Los Angeles, as
McLeod notes, “suburban areas of Southern California underwent
changes that would lead, by the 1980s, to the characterization of . .
. a new social formation: exurbia, edge cities, or postsuburbia.”

Spheeris further exposes the nature of this fantasy through the
perspective of an ordinary teenager, Evan (Bill Coyne
[[link removed]]), who leaves his abusive home
after being slapped and belittled by his mother and subsequently taken
in by a punk named Jack (Chris Pedersen
[[link removed]]). As they drive through the
seemingly endless Los Angeles sprawl, Evan pulls out his mother’s
dairy, which he’d taken after being told he “was the biggest
mistake she ever made.”

He reads, “Mark and I are gonna be very happy here. The air is
clear, skies are blue, and all the houses are brand new and beautiful.
They call it suburbia and that word’s perfect because it’s a
combination of ‘suburb’ and ‘utopia.’”

Conditioned by similar experiences and feeling even more jaded by his
time on the streets, Jack can see the irony of her shattered dreams,
observing, “they didn’t realize it would be the slum of the
future.” A similar lack of a stable home life and hope for the
future leads Otto to a chance meeting with the wily, veteran repo man,
Bud (Harry Dean Stanton
[[link removed]],
RIP), and onto a collision course with Parnell’s Chevy Malibu.

Although punk culture emerged simultaneously in Great Britain and
America in the mid-70s, its peculiarities are best understood as
reactions to local conditions. Drawing contrast between the emergent
punk scenes of London with that of Los Angeles through the 70s and
early 80s, in Hardcore California: A History of Punk and New Wave
[[link removed]],
Peter Belsito and Bob Davis identify a key distinction. They remind
that the SoCal punk scene wasn’t “dealing with English economic
oppression [[link removed]]. L.A. Punks
were investigating fashion anarchy and musical chaos as a way of
striking back at the complacent, dull scene they had suffered for the
last decade.”

The sense of displacement and decenteredness pervading Los Angeles is
emphasized through _Repo Man_’s weird characters, gaining
particular significance through its depictions of punk culture. This
is starkly evident in the wanderings and actions of punk characters,
Duke, Debbi and Archie (Miguel Sandoval
[[link removed]]),
functioning as a means of self-exile and withdrawal to the fringes of
society.

Otto’s initiation into the seedy world of automobile repossession
merges two sets of social outcasts in punks and repo men, both of
which survive on the margins. Yet, the life of a repo man isn’t one
that Otto exactly chooses, either.

Instead, he is duped when a stranger—who turns out to be Bud—pulls
up alongside asking for help in moving a car, claiming his “old
lady” is sick and pregnant. Otto is naturally suspicious and rebuffs
the offer. After some spirited back and forth, Bud promises Otto $25
to drive his wife’s car out of “this bad area.” Otto agrees and
commandeers the car Bud has identified just as its actual owner runs
out to stop him, with “El Clavo Y La Cruz
[[link removed]]” by Latinx punks, The
Plugz providing musical accompaniment.

Bud’s ruse is exposed when he leads Otto to the impound yard of the
“Helping Hand Acceptance Corporation
[[link removed]].”
Foreshadowing impending entanglements, Parnell’s Malibu appears out
of nowhere on the highway, almost crashing into Bud and Otto while in
route. Upon their arrival, Otto follows Bud into the office for his
reward, with the manager, Oly (Tom Finnegan
[[link removed]]), tossing
him a beer [[link removed]]. Realizing
his involvement in this unsavory profession, Otto says, “you’re
all repo men,” before pouring the beer onto the floor in a show of
contempt.

Recalling the grocery store scene, instead of being lectured or worse
by the repo crew with Bud teasing at the possibility, saying, “you
know, kid, usually when someone pulls shit like that my first reaction
is, I wanna punch his fuckin' lights out.” Bud’s words, however,
are more an initiation with his purpose revealed as he then asks,
“but you know something?” in a shift serving as a cue to Oly, with
whom he delivers the punchline, “you’re all right!”

Oly takes it from there: “whatd’ya say, kid, we’re always on the
lookout for a few good men.” Otto scoffs at the offer, exclaiming,
“screw that, I ain’t gonna be no repo man. No way!” Just as
he’s ready to leave, however, the receptionist, Marlene (Vonetta
McGee [[link removed]])
reminds him, “it’s too late, you already are,” counting out his
payment. Accepting the cash, Otto substantiates his participation in
an industry he disdains. His actions illustrate the difficulty in
avoiding complicity in systems of capitalist exploitation that we
might otherwise condemn, while placing ourselves in senseless conflict
with people most like us.

This is emphasized in Oly’s banter with a man already in the office
to retrieve his car when Bud arrives, telling him it’s the “best
goddamn car on the lot
[[link removed]].” Handing over the
payment, the man replies, “you damn right it is!” The unremitting
tussle over motor vehicles as property and symbols of status, also
speaks to the automobile’s function as an object of freedom and
personal liberty within a hyper-individualistic, materialistic
society. Yeah, society
[[link removed]] . . . right? we’ll
return to that later.

Through Cox’s skillful weaving of the film’s divergent storylines,
we find Otto with Kevin discussing a future that isn’t looking so
bright after all, shades
[[link removed]] or not. As Kevin shares
his aspirations to advance from fry cook to manager, Otto balks at a
future reduced to such a trifling existence trapped in a low-wage job.

Returning home on a bus with “Edge City
[[link removed]]”
displayed as the destination, Otto seeks an escape from the
stultifying existence closing in on him. Upon entering this house, his
parents are sitting nearly catatonic having a TV party
[[link removed]] more mind-numbing even
than the one described by Black Flag, which he’d sang after leaving
Debbi. With little else to do, instead of drinking “a couple of
brews” they smoke marijuana while watching a crooked
televangelist—I know, aren’t they all?—named Reverend Larry
(Bruce White
[[link removed]]).

The reverend preaches on the reward of salvation, but with the
condition that his flock heed god’s call to religious warfare
[[link removed]] and “destroy the twin
evils of godless communism abroad and liberal humanism at home.” As
an embodiment of the trademark megalomania and hucksterism of such
figures, he continues addressing accusations of greed levelled by
critics, shamelessly responding, “they’re right, I do want your
money, because God wants your money
[[link removed]].” It continues from
there with Cox underscoring the venality of this particular brand of
con artistry that preys on the ignorant, meek and desperate.

The reason for Otto’s visit is soon revealed when he asks his father
about a promise of $1000 to encourage him to attend college, claiming
he now sees the importance of an education. Instead of getting the
money when he graduates, Otto bluntly asks if he can have it before,
“like now.” His father’s listless reply, “I don’t have it
anymore,” reflects the stupefying effects of Christian
fundamentalism, while his mother clarifies, “your father gave all
our extra money to the reverend’s telethon . . . we’re sending
Bibles to El Salvador
[[link removed]].”

Cox deploys such scenes to highlight the ills of religious
indoctrination, drawing ironic attention to the fact that throughout
the 80s the Reagan administration
[[link removed]] was
financing and supporting assaults by vicious death squads against
civilians in El Salvador
[[link removed]] and other Central
American nations
[[link removed]].
Aside from his depictions of Rev. Larry, Cox also lobs hilarious pot
shots at the pseudo-scientific dogma of L. Ron Hubbard
[[link removed]],
which Mike Davis
[[link removed]] in _City
of Quartz_
[[link removed]]_ _called
“a cosmology derived from the pages of _Astounding Science Fiction_
[[link removed]],” and lampooned
throughout _Repo Man _as “Dioretix
[[link removed]].”

With his options dwindling, Otto returns to Helping Hand, signing on
as Bud’s understudy and partner. Riffing on Cox’s use of classic
western tropes, Linden describes the pair as “new age cowboys
[[link removed]],”
emphasizing another evocative layering of referentiality. It’s a
theme that isn’t just metaphorical either, with a unique combination
of comic relief provided by the company’s resident guru, Miller
(Tracey Walter [[link removed]]),
who peppers the repo crew with pop-philosophy takes on everything from
coincidence, the Bermuda triangle, UFOs and time travel
[[link removed]], to John Wayne’s
alleged kink.

The bleak financial outlook leads Otto into the world of automobile
repossession, while precipitating the narrative shift focused on the
repo men and Parnell as the prevalent pattern. This is reinforced by a
return to the scene of Parnell’s traffic stop where we learn he
is being surveilled
[[link removed]] by
intelligence agents from the NSA
[[link removed]]—a
government agency at the core of the military-industrial complex. Clad
in standard-issue grey suits and donning mirrored sunglasses, the
clone-like agents are headed by a female intelligence officer named
Rogersz (Susan Barnes [[link removed]]). Since
little is ordinary in the off-kilter world Cox dreams up, she sports a
metal hand, adding yet another zany element to the film.

Orchestrating a cover-up of the patrolman’s grisly death, Rogersz
glosses over his apparent incineration when speaking with the local
deputy on the scene, attributing it to “natural causes,” while
dismissively adding, “it happens sometimes. People just explode
[[link removed]].” Before he can
respond, Rogersz withdraws into an unmarked delivery truck that serves
as a mobile command center.

Inside, she reviews a top-secret dossier on Parnell labelled “do not
notify police.” A $20,000 reward for the Malibu’s recovery is
issued instead. This comes to the attention of Helping Hand, drawing
its crew of repo men into the search, as well as their rivals, the
‘outlaw’ Rodriguez brothers. That the truck is guarded by an agent
in a hazmat suit gives another ominous hint at the hazardous cargo in
Parnell’s trunk.

The accretion of themes from consumerism, societal disintegration and
government conspiracy, to the implications of space aliens held at
military bases, à la Megadeth’s “Hangar 18
[[link removed]],”converge in the
search for the Malibu. The nature of the stakes is revealed in the
numerous repos and car chases that consume the characters throughout.
It’s notable that the first of these showdowns between Bud,
accompanied by Otto, and the Rodriguez brothers, takes place in
the paved Los Angeles River
[[link removed]]—a place
where the reterritorialization
[[link removed]] of the American
West is most starkly depicted.

With Bud hurling insults after spinning out while the Rodriguez
brothers recede into the distance, Otto expresses his delight in the
exhilarating nature of the job, exclaiming, “Wow, that was intense
[[link removed]].” Bud’s iconic
reply, “repo man’s always intense,” meshes with Otto’s
freewheeling punk attitude, reinforcing a commitment not based on any
real zeal for the job itself, but for the thrill of the chase and the
exhilaration of speed.

Being that the repo industry derives from an economic system that is
often exploitative and predatory, it seems unfair to heap the blame on
the so-called ‘delinquents’ created by such conditions. This,
despite Bud’s half-baked assertion that “credit is a sacred trust,
it’s what our free society is founded on.”

These claims notwithstanding, Bud is far from the mold of the “true
believer
[[link removed]]”
as conceived by Eric Hoffer
[[link removed]]. Conversely, he’s an
individualist sort who condemns communism and Christianity in the same
breath, while flaunting a strong misanthropic streak and seeing his
fellow Americans as “assholes,” before adding, “ordinary fucking
people. I hate ‘em.”

It’s an attitude well-suited for the dangerous situations that come
with being a repo man, and fundamental to what Bud promotes as “the
repo code [[link removed]].” The
hazards he speaks of with Otto in this context serve as another
provocation for the film’s concerns. The broader ideas raised are
also evocative of the anxiety and paranoia associated with structures
of institutional power that the so-called postmodern condition
[[link removed]] was
reactive to.

Despite the Malibu being the focus of the film’s intersecting
narrative threads, Parnell’s identity and motives remain obscure.
Cox likewise defers any disclosure of what’s in the Malibu’s trunk
until halfway through the film when Otto picks up a woman named Leila
(Olivia Barash
[[link removed]]) he spots
walking the street, seemingly in distress since, as Missing Persons
has taught us, “nobody walks in LA
[[link removed]].”

Leila supplies the answer by showing Otto an indistinct photo of what
she claims are “four dead aliens.” Otto can only laugh at the
ridiculousness of her assertion, prompting more bizarre details. Among
these, she claims to be part of a “secret network” seeking to make
contact with the scientist who “smuggled them out of an Air Force
base in the trunk of a Chevy Malibu.”

Arriving at Leila’s destination, things only get kookier as the sign
on the building reads: “United Fruitcake Outlet
[[link removed]].” The emergence of
another conspiratorial storyline ratchets the comic effect while
reinforcing sci-fi themes. Yet, even with the details Leila provides,
Parnell’s role remains ambiguous, evoking more questions.

Interspersed between scenes portraying the repo men and the Rodriguez
brothers, along with the movements of Parnell, Leila and the
government agents, the exploits of Duke, Debbie and Archie keep
bubbling up at the margins as they rob their way across Los Angeles.
The gang’s crime spree culminates when they steal the Malibu from
the Rodriguez brothers
[[link removed]] just after they’d
snatched it from Parnell at a gas station where the ubiquitous Kevin
was working as an attendant.

Soon after, Duke and company encounter Otto at a bar where the Circle
Jerks are doing a lounge-style rendition of “When the Shit Hits the
Fan [[link removed]].” He’s there for
a meeting with Leila and Agent Rogersz, who’s pursuing the Malibu.
After a brief exchange Duke, oblivious of the Malibu’s value, leaves
in disgust at Otto’s transformation into a repo man, exclaiming,
“fuck this, let’s go do some crimes.”

In the parking lot outside, they find Parnell next to the Malibu with
Debbi yelling, “what the fuck are you doing with our car?” Parnell
responds with surprise, “your car... are you sure? This looks like
my car.” With the gang escalating their threats in an attempt to
intimidate Parnell, he plays it cool and asks, “what’s in the
trunk?” Duke's response, “what do you mean?” signals his
increasing agitation which he expresses by crowding Parnell against
the wall.

Unfazed, Parnell’s questions serve as his own form of taunting as he
seizes his opening by saying, “I think you’re afraid to find
out.” Duke’s fuming response, “I ain’t afraid of nothin,’
see,” exposes his fragile ego. Such anger gives Parnell further
encouragement as he continues, while expressing feigned concern,
“it’s all right, I don’t blame you for being afraid.” Duke
reiterates his fearlessness at this provocation, while Debbi and
Archie goad him to violence.

We see where this is headed, but just as Duke starts to open the trunk
he recoils after burning his hand. Debbi intervenes as he readies to
try again, pushing him out of the way, thus, saving his life. Archie
steps up to assert his dominance, while mocking Duke. His rise is
short-lived as he is incinerated upon opening the trunk
[[link removed]] like the officer—but
definitely with more style as his mohawk remains visible when he is
vaporized, leaving only his combat boots behind. Debbi sets up another
iconic line, hiding her fear by feigning disinterest, saying, “come
on, Duke, let’s go do those crimes,” to which Duke responds
shaken, “yeah, yeah, let’s go get sushi and not pay.”

The closest we get to learning Parnell’s backstory occurs just
after he stops to offer a pursuing Otto a ride
[[link removed]]. With Otto saying he
represents the Helping Hand Acceptance Corp.; Parnell cuts in with a
rambling tirade defending the safety of radiation and lamenting the
cancelling of his work due to some “half-baked goggle-box
do-gooders.” Speaking to the personal impact of these events,
Parnell continues, “when they canceled the project it almost did me
in. One day my mind was full to bursting. The next day, nothing. Swept
away. But I'll show them. I had a lobotomy in the end.”

Astonished, Otto asks, “lobotomy
[[link removed]]? Isn’t that for
loonies?” Parnell’s emphatic response, “Not. At. All,” belies
his denial while signaling a dissociative break through a shift to a
third person perspective, teasing at his involvement in government
nuclear weapons programs:

“Friend of mine had one. Designer of the neutron bomb
[[link removed]]. You
ever hear of the neutron bomb? Destroys people—leaves buildings
standing. Fits in a suitcase. It’s so small, no one knows it’s
there until . . . Blammo! Eyes melt, skin explodes, everybody dead. So
immoral, working on the thing can drive you mad. That’s what
happened to this friend of mine. So he had a lobotomy. Now he's well
again.”

Dystopia without apocalypse, or as Jello Biafra
[[link removed]] sang it with Dead Kennedys
[[link removed]]:
“efficiency and progress is ours once more/now that we have the
neutron bomb./It's nice and quick and clean and gets things done,/
away with excess enemy . . . Gonna kill, kill, kill, kill, kill the
poor [[link removed]],/kill, kill, kill,
kill, kill the poor, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill the poor tonight.”
But we should also heed the words of The Weirdos
[[link removed]], who while
acknowledging that “we have the neutron bomb,” make clear, “we
don’t want it, don’t blame me
[[link removed]].”

And if there were still any doubts about Parnell, Otto asks what kind
of car his friend drives, with the answer being: “a Chevy Malibu.”
Before Otto can extract more information, Parnell collapses unto the
steering wheel. Otto drags him from the car, placing his body on a
bench, and departs in the Malibu. The pursuing agents soon locate the
corpse, setting it ablaze with a flame thrower. This sequence of
events sets up the film’s conclusion, bringing everyone together for
a wildly bizarre finale.

Weeeellll, almost everyone, that is, except for Duke. He, as the
western formula demands, goes out in an absurdist blaze of glory
during a final liquor store robbery with Debbi, which is interrupted
by Bud and Otto. The clerk, Bud and Humphries’ security guard, who
is also inexplicably in the store, are all mortally wounded in
standoff cinematographer Robby Müller
[[link removed]] offers
in homage to that featured in _The Good, the Bad and the Ugly_
[[link removed]], and also replayed in
subsequent LA films from _Reservoir Dogs_
[[link removed]]_ _to _Boogie Nights_
[[link removed]].

Duke’s dying statement perfectly sums up the film’s satirist
message, while going down as among its most famous lines as he laments
to Otto, “I know a life of crime has led me to this sorry fate
[[link removed]], and yet, I blame
society...society made me what I am!!!”

Otto’s classic response, “that’s bullshit. You’re a white
suburban punk just like me,” brings the story full circle. While
Otto’s response might seem like a joke, in the context of the LA
punk scene an important distinction is being drawn. This is clarified
by Belsito and Davis, who remind that hardcore punk, as represented by
the likes of Black Flag, Suicidal Tendencies, Youth Brigade and Wasted
Youth among others, emerged from the suburbs of Los Angeles and
“underlined a separation between the South Bay working class kids
and the post-glitter Hollywood punks.”

Mike Ness
[[link removed]],
founder of the iconic punk band Social Distortion
[[link removed]] from Fullerton
[[link removed]],
is even more explicit in his response to the urban/suburban
distinction, “just because we live in a suburban setting, what?
[[link removed]] There
isn’t alcoholism in the home? There isn’t child abuse? There
isn’t fucking abandonment? There isn’t fucking addiction? You’re
fucking confused, man.”

With Duke choking through his final words, “but it still hurts,”
we are confronted with a haunting question and also, maybe, a
realization: can there be any escape from the systems of control and
violence imposed by governments, religious institutions and
corporations, but also ourselves; or much less the inscrutable
mysteries of the world and universe that demarcate our lived
experiences in so many myriad and sundry ways?

Bud offers as good an answer as any in his own spectacular death scene
after being shot again by one of Rogersz snipers from a circling
helicopter as he approaches the now glowing Malibu in the impound
yard: “I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees.” Although
Bud’s words echoes a punk-like outlook, he’s actually quoting
the famed Mexican revolutionary
[[link removed]] Emiliano
Zapata
[[link removed]].
Given the film’s context, his choice is exquisite.

With that, what else is left to say? A lot, obviously, but for me,
it’s enough. More than enough. And isn’t the fullness of meaning
conveyed by a profusion of disparate themes and narrative threads what
makes _Repo Man_ such a wonderfully unique and enduring film? A
delightfully weird b-movie that our awareness of the nature of time
and history, life and death are now finally, or at least, closer to
catching up with, and thus, warranting its standing as a classic of
contemporary cinema.

So, even if its themes have grown more urgent in the four decades
since its release—unblinking, yet also laughing, in the face of the
exposure of a rot more sinister and eviler than any extraterrestrials
from outer space might conjure—we can laugh along with it to ease
our most cynical suspicions while facing our deepest fears in all
their horrible ugliness and sublime beauty.

_This article was written over the last two months amid some intense
mourning. It’s dedicated to the memory of dear loved ones lost
during this time: Mr. Batty, Jason West, and Chris Wham. While you are
now free of this mortal coil, the enduring gift of your presence will
never be forgotten!  _

The opinions expressed here are solely the author's and do not reflect
the opinions or beliefs of the Hollywood Progressive.

_______

BILLY J. STRATTON is originally from Eastern Kentucky, the son of a
coal miner. He earned a PhD in American Indian Studies from the
University of Arizona and currently teaches contemporary Native
American/American literature, film, and critical theory in the
Department of English and Literary Arts at the University of Denver.

 

 

* Film
[[link removed]]
* Film Review
[[link removed]]
* Repo Man
[[link removed]]
* Reaganomics
[[link removed]]
* Punk Scene in LA 1984
[[link removed]]

*
[[link removed]]
*
[[link removed]]
*
*
[[link removed]]

 

 

 

INTERPRET THE WORLD AND CHANGE IT

 

 

Submit via web
[[link removed]]

Submit via email
Frequently asked questions
[[link removed]]
Manage subscription
[[link removed]]
Visit portside.org
[[link removed]]

Twitter [[link removed]]

Facebook [[link removed]]

 



########################################################################

[link removed]

To unsubscribe from the xxxxxx list, click the following link:
[link removed]