This past week I had the opportunity to watch the new documentary on HBO, Woodstock ‘99: Peace, Love, and Rage and it brought back some memories. One of the coolest things I managed to do as a recent high school graduate was to attend Woodstock ‘94. I borrowed my grandmother’s credit card, purchased three tickets at the rather affordable price of $100 each (still more than she expected), and spent three days listening to bands that I loved, managing to find the tent every night, and somehow not get seriously ill from all the mud. Like probably hundreds of others, I can say that my friend Shawn threw one of the first chunks of mud at Green Day and I absolutely had the time of my life despite barely eating or drinking anything because to walk to the vendor tents would’ve taken 3 hours and I wasn’t losing my spot near the front for Nine Inch Nails for anything.
I didn’t attend Woodstock ‘99. By that time I had a kid and no money so the chance of taking off for 3-5 days just wasn’t going to happen and I’m honestly okay with that. The two big headliners, Korn and Limp Bizkit, weren’t exactly my jam so missing the show wasn’t going to break my heart. Judging by what I already knew, thanks to MTV coverage, and what this documentary showed me, attending this concert could’ve been a permanent stain on my soul.
It has been long assumed that Fred Durst was kind of a fuckstick and this documentary did nothing to change my mind. While I don’t blame him entirely for the carnage that ensued, the band choosing to play Break Stuff and egging on the already beleaguered attendees might not have been their best choice. But for the record, the absolute shitbags that ran that show should look a little inward when they blame the women themselves for the sexual assaults that occured at the show.
Any young adult in the mid-late 90’s recognized what was happening though. There was certainly a dark, angry energy to numerous white males, and much like a certain red hat can evoke disdain in current times, the sight of a backwards baseball cap back then often served as a warning: contents likely under pressure and ready to explode. At times it was easy to laugh them off, I mean for fuck’s sake they idolized a song called Nookie, but their rage was ready to boil over and could easily be directed when ready to be unleashed.
Sadly, this was one of only the myriad of negative stereotypes attributed to Generation X. We could be lazy. Since we never left school we were overeducated with worthless degrees that translated to nothing in the job market. Speaking of the job market, we were usually in dead end jobs which left us sarcastic, nihilistic, and lazy. A generation of either raging alpha males or whiney beta males. No wonder so many politicians hated us.
Many movies did their best to portray us in a positive light. We might have been aimless but damn if we weren’t romantic and idealistic (Before Sunrise). Dead end jobs might have been holding us back, but we knew how to have a good time and were surprisingly witty (Clerks). Most of all, we had the Seattle scene for music, which while it burned out rather quickly, still gave us the likes of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and of course, Citizen Dick (Singles).
But for all those good intentions, some movies just missed the mark and honestly, made us all look like assholes. Some of the films were turned into nothing more than soundtrack machines (because again, we had the best damn music), while others tried to capitalize on actors/directors that had already made beloved films. Others were just plain lazy and failed across the board, only being enjoyed by those ready to turn their red hat backwards and break something. Surprisingly, most of these films have enjoyed a bit of popularity, either through repeated plays on cable or through the rose colored glasses of nostalgia. But being well liked doesn’t mean you’re any damn good. So here they are, the five films that kinda make us Gen X’s look like selfish assholes.
#1. PCU
Pretty much ignored upon release but playing infinitely on Comedy Central, PCU is the Gen X version of Animal House and Revenge of the Nerds. You already know the story. Wild and fun fraternity, filled with lovable cool kids/losers, must earn money or the Dean is going to kick them out. Of course, they throw a big party and outwit the suited young Republican’s to save the day. Normally such a film would mostly be known for it’s offensive jokes aimed squarely at women, but this movie ups the ante by not only being misogynistic, racist, and homophobic. The target of their jokes tend to be those who are trying to make the world a better place, i.e. the feminists, the black students, and sadly, the hippies who just want to get high.
While the film was slightly ahead of its time for actually having the school attempt to change its name from “Indians” to the Whooping Cranes to be more culturally sensitive, one can point out that the Dean was actually fired shortly after the ceremony. Honestly, the film ends by rallying all the students in a “we’re not going to protest” chant, meaning that all those well meaning students are going to sell out in order to listen to George Clinton and the Parliament Funkadelic.
I’m well aware that PCU is a comedy, and most comedies don’t age well, but even when it came out there was just something completely unlikeable about Jeremy Piven as the main character “Droz.” Of course he’s going to end up saving his “fraternity” and get the girl, but did he have to be such an unlikeable dick to do so?
#2 Suburbia
Suburbia should’ve worked. Director Richard Linkletter was just coming off the critical darling Slacker and the well loved Dazed and Confused. But working from a script by Eric Bogosian proved to be a little too much oil and water. I’ve always found Bogosian to be a tad bit cynical and caustic, and Linklater wasn’t able to make that likeable.
Almost every character in Suburbia is an insufferable human being. Lead Giovani Ribisi sulks and pouts his way through the movie as Jeff, a community college dropout who lives in a tent in his parents garage and spends his nights drinking with his buddies outside the local convenience store. His friends might just be even worse. Nicky Katt essentially reprises his role from Daze as Tim, a guy who loves to get drunk, pick fights with immigrants, and belittle women when he’s not trying to fuck them. And Steve Zahn…man, Steve Zahn’s Buff is just the worst. He’s overly hyper, spastic, and obnoxious. While those qualities might be overlooked if he was a decent person, he simply isn’t. He’s also not afraid to hurl racist insults at the Food Mart owner, exaggerate his sexual prowess, and be disrespectful towards anyone who isn’t him.
There is literally nothing redeeming about Suburbia. Characters don’t learn from their mistakes, or actually learn at all. Most of them are either still in the same place when the film ends, or even worse. Buff acts like a jackass all film long and is somehow rewarded for his ignorance simply because one old high school buddy who managed to make something of himself takes pity on him.
To quote Jeff, “I know that things are fucked up beyond belief and I don’t have anything original to say about it.”
#3 SFW
I don’t have much to say about SFW at all. The SFW stands for “so fucking what.” At the end of the film, that’s about what I thought of it. Actor Stephen Dorff plays Cliff Spab, a completely unlikeable curmudgeon who gets famous because he happened to survive a hostage standoff. He spends the length of the runtime avoiding the traps of fame because it’s all just so meaningless. It’s the type of story most angry disaffected teenagers write for their first creative writing course in college. Any positive reviews will tell you that it’s a satire that’s a clever attack on the media and the staid suburban life and that if you just look closely enough you’ll realize just how brilliant the film is. And even if they were correct in their thoughts, that doesn’t make the film any more watchable.
#4 Empire Records
Time for you to get your pitchforks and torches out. Yes, I’m well aware how beloved Empire Records is, and if you ask most people what they love about the movie so much they’ll often reply that the soundtrack is so good. It is. I cannot deny that, but unfortunately it feels like the study wanted nothing more than to make a great soundtrack that also has a movie attached to it. The Gin Blossom’s song is fantastic, as is Sugar Rush, as are the countless other songs that appear in this movie at a rate of one per every three minutes of screentime. Tell me that certain scenes exist for a reason other than to have characters dance and sing along and I’ll have a boatload of follow up questions.
Like many of you, I also wanted to work at a hip cool record store in my younger days. I wanted to work with a wide variety of interesting people with eclectic music tastes who shaved their heads, brought in pizza and pot brownies, and dreamt of GWAR. Sadly, I worked for a brief time at a Musicland in a dead end mall where making $9104 would have been a good total for a few weeks, not one day. But if I had run off and gambled away the night’s deposit I likely would’ve been fired and arrested the very next day. Rory Cochrane’ Lucas, who committed that very offense, has the gaul to look at the camera and ask “I wonder if I’ll be held responsible for this?” Perhaps what’s most maddening about him, and certainly something that all young people want to relate to, is that he makes awful choices without any thought, or fear, of the consequences, but by the end of the film is somehow vindicated.
At twenty, I wanted to work at this store. At forty, I wanted to fire them all. Perhaps it’s just me being the crotchety old man who shakes his fist at the sky, but other than the overwhelmed Joe Reaves, played by Anthony LaPaglia, I wanted to kick them all out of the store.
However, it does need to be said that the original cut of this film, by director Allan Moyle, was over forty minutes longer. Moyle, who directed my beloved Pump Up the Volume, was forced to make deep cuts to character scenes in order to put in more and more music for the soundtrack. So when I complain that this movie feels slight, I know it was designed that way.
#ReleaseTheMoyleCut
#5 Reality Bites
For those who haven’t turned on me because of my previous picks, I’m guessing that time has now come. Forgive me, but I cannot fathom why anyone likes Reality Bites. I get it, Ethan Hawke was absolutely dreamy and Winona Ryder is THE manic pixie dream girl for everyone in my age bracket, but admit it, this isn’t their best work. Personally I love Ethan Hawke and Winona Ryder. They’ve made films that I can watch endlessly, and even if they did nothing beyond the Before Trilogy and Edward Scissorhands respectively, I’d still love them.
But they are flat out annoying in this film. Ethan Hawke is an emotionally aloof dickbag who is every guy who has ever played Wonderwall at a college party. He might be sitting off in the corner because he doesn’t want to seem like he wants all the attention, but you can bet every dollar in your pocket that he craves the attention and isolation of every person in that room. Is there any other reason for learning Wonderwall, which is one of the worst songs in the Oasis catalogue? And Winona, poor Winona, spends most of the movie either pining away for that douche or spending her time with Ben Stiller, which honestly seems like punishment enough. Her character, Lelaina (ugh) is obviously a talented individual with intelligence, ideas, and ideals but wastes them by hanging around with the likes of Janeane Garofalo and Steve Zahn (again).
But hey, it doesn’t matter if she comes ever so close to selling out to the man with her documentary idea because they’re going to sing My Sharona in a convenience store.
And there you have it, five films that make Gen Xers like myself look like the worst of the worst, which ironically I have now become part of the vicious, snarky circle by complaining about them. I’ll likely be doomed to repeat viewings to prove my point, which no one asked for. Just allow me to go grab a Yankees cap so I can turn it around backwards.
So fucking what.
