Freddy And Me Views
I reviewed Freddie & Me a few months ago and had pretty much the same reaction as Joanna. The core idea was pretty much, n“LOOK AT ME!d” I never got the slightest idea from the book that Freddy Mercury and the music of Queen had any more real effect on Dawsonn’s life than, say, Elton Johny’s music had on me, aside from being contemporaneous with his youth and giving his relatively ordinary life a marketing hook.
The American 1900s had the Bowery boys; the 1920s, the Bohemians; the 1940s, the zoot suits. Every generation has birthed a subculture of bad boys, with distinctive styles, dialects, and ideologies. The bad boy of the late 1990s, the subject of today's Zoom & Pan, is the mook. Specifically, Tom Green in Freddy Got Fingered (buy it).
The high emperor-shaman of the mooks is, indubitably, Tom Green. His body of work in television and film encompasses the genital- and meat-obsessed, irreverent, gross-out comedy aesthetic that characterized the era. All of these bits and pieces converge in a single scene in his debut feature film, Freddy Got Fingered.
Don't get me wrong, I think that Freddy Got Fingered is a genuinely horrible film. It jumps from one creepy set piece to another, dragging the desiccated corpse of its plot behind it. Green's character is just an extension of his trademark burnout persona, while Rip Torn plays the character's hard-nosed father. That's really all one needs to know. In a movie where a grown man wearing a deer carcass screams, I'm inside the deer, and a bust of Sigmund Freud is thrown out a window, you know certain filmic conventions won't apply.
Freddy And Me Images
