PCU - 1994

"PCU" - 1994
Dir. by Hart Bochner - 1 hr. 19 min.

Official Trailer

by Clayton Hollifield

"PCU" represents one of the very first times that I remember a movie review.  I knew they existed, and read them in the paper without much thought or attention, but it was The Oregonian's contemporary movie review for "PCU" that made me want to see it.  I can't seem to track that review down at the moment, but my memory says that the reviewer gave this film an "F."  He watched "PCU," and then declared it a flat-out, complete failure as a film.  I had seen the trailer and couldn't figure out what could possibly be that awful about it.  It was that reviewer's insistence that there was nothing of merit at all in "PCU" that piqued my curiosity, and got me into the theatre to check it out for myself.

Every generation gets their own version of "Animal House," retrofitted for it's times.  In this case, a pre-frosh, Tom (Chris Young), is visiting the campus to see if it's a good fit for him.  Unfortunately for Tom, his weekend guide has been signed up for that duty as a prank, and lives in a giant house called "The Pit," populated with every kind of slacker available.  The guide, Droz (Jeremy Piven), is immediately distracted by tormenting protesters - PCU stands for Port Chester University, but it's really "Politically Correct University."  A plot between the University President Garcia-Thompson (Jessica Walter) and an underground frat weasel, Rand McPherson (David Spade) to remove the Pit residents from The Pit is put into play, all while Tom flees various groups he's offended while fleeing from other groups he's offended previously.

Glancing over the cast, it might occur to you that a film starring Jeremy Piven and David Spade might have a likability gap.  Granted, this was made before Piven was in full "Entourage" mode, and was just piling up funny bits in other people's movies, but you wouldn't, at this point in time, be watching "PCU" under those circumstances.  Thankfully, this story doesn't ask you to actually root for Droz.  You may end up doing so, but more because his character wants nothing more than to continue being a facilitator for chaos, and a fixer for those who are wronged along the way.  There's one great scene that makes it clear that you don't have to root for Droz, a flashback to when he and Rand were roommates as freshmen (which brings up the point of why Rand has also spent seven years at PCU).  Droz considers it a "nightmare," but the flashback consists of Droz howling at Rand to go to sleep so that he can sleep with some girl in peace, and Droz wrecking their room in fury that Rand won't go to sleep.  It's funny on it's own, but it's also a clever little piece that tells you the filmmakers know that you're possibly not going to like Droz anyways, so they're not even going to try to justify his behavior.

Flashback

I suppose the big question is whether or not "PCU" is funny.  It's certainly derivative, although that's not a barrier to a film being an enjoyable one.  I have to say that it is funny.  Yes, there are things that haven't aged well; I don't really care about the costuming, it's accurate enough for the time, as are the stereotype groups Droz and his crew are constantly in conflict with.  The thing that's probably aged the worst are the maybe half dozen statements that begin with "times have changed" or "these days..."  I'd let that slide if it was only once, but those kinds of things are going to make younger audiences roll their eyes, and remind everyone else that this film was the product of another time.  It's hard to get mad about stuff like that - not every film is timeless and will find an audience in perpetuity, and it's probably something that no one was even thinking about as it was made.

But if you're one of those people who like dumb comedies (or "save the house" films, as this literally is), there's some good material here, like everything that Gutter (Jon Favreau, in an early film) does.  His character doesn't get the most screen time, but he's possibly the most likable guy in the entire film, mainly because he's not malicious in his intentions (and because he makes up for his mistakes by accidentally delivering George Clinton and P-Funk to the Pit Party).  Piven's motor-mouth stylings actually work pretty well, and there are a couple of pretty great bigger gags in the film (my two favorites: raining meat and torturing a donor party with the Starland Vocal Band).  There are consistently good little gags along the way (detail stuff, like a Womynist (look it up) getting mad at Rand, and just yelling "Republican!" at him), and truthfully, the silly politically-correct groups haven't really changed that much over the last twenty years, except in the way they dress.

"PCU" doesn't re-invent the wheel, but the wheels on this bus work just fine.  I don't know that anyone could come across this movie now and really get into it - it is in many ways a product of it's time (one way that's a bonus - a pretty decent soundtrack, including a Mudhoney cover of Elvis Costello's "Pump It Up").  At the same time, that damning Oregonian movie review really peeled back the curtain for me: I've always been baffled why movie critics are consistently brutal on comedies, and seem to take their mere existence as a personal affront to be met with a stream of profanities, screamed until a critic is laying in a pool of their own tears, hoarse with rage.  Droz himself has the answer to that:

Get us laid!

As funny as "PCU" is, this isn't going to be on anyone's list of greatest films.  But it's bizarre to see anyone get so worked up over a film that's main point is that people take themselves too seriously, and it's a good idea to throw back a few and watch a legendary funk band every now and then.  I hope that reviewer was just having a bad day, and eventually was able to come to terms with having to live in the same universe that yielded "PCU."

3 / 5 - TV (HD)

Stranger: Bernie Worrell on Earth - 2005

"Stranger: Bernie Worrell on Earth" - 2005
Dir. by Philip Di Fiore - 39 min.

Official Trailer

by Clayton Hollifield

Bernie Worrell was the keyboard player for Parliament-Funkadelic, so you really should be familiar with his music, even if it's second-hand through omnipresent sampled work.  He's also played with the Talking Heads (as seen in "Stop Making Sense," a tremendous live concert movie) and dozens of other musicians.  He's regarded as a genius by other musicians, and created part of the foundation that hip-hop was built upon.  So how come nobody knows who he is?  And why is he living in a Motel 6 instead of raking in royalties from his heyday?

I wish that "Stranger: Bernie Worrell on Earth" did a better job of answering those questions (and others).  But before I get into the negatives here, let's start positive.  I'm glad that someone thought to do a film on Mr. Worrell in the first place.  In the 1990's, both George Clinton and Bootsy Collins had their own resurgences, and they were well-earned.  Worrell deserves no less, and there's no shortage of respected musicians who have worked with Bernie and are willing to sing his praises here (David Byrne, Clinton, Bootsy, Mos Def, Dr. Know, members of the Talking Heads and Living Colour, to begin with).  It's very clear that he's held in esteem by his peers; you don't even need to listen to the words any of these people say, just watch the expressions on their faces as they're talking about Worrell and his work.  And credit where credit is due, there is performance footage (although chopped up) not just from a contemporary concert, but from what would be considered his "prime."

So, what problems do I have with the film?  First off, it's not even as long as a P-Funk album.  It's hard to get a feel for what it was exactly that Worrell did when his band was known for longer-form songs (in other words, P-Funk wasn't a three-minute radio-hit kind of band).  And "Stranger" also runs afoul of the one cardinal sin regarding music docs: no full performance of any song.  Everything doesn't have to be played in full, but refusing to give any full songs at all (and that's not to mention the oddness of editing together performances when the guy you're talking about is a composer, and the whole of a given piece of music might have some integrity that's not being preserved) demands a familiarity with the subject's work that most people don't have.  And if you do have that familiarity, hearing snippets of some of your favorite pieces of music is akin to being taunted over and over again.  It's maddening, and it's worth tacking a few more minutes on the run time (especially with such a short film) so that a viewer can absorb just what it is that Worrell is doing (David Byrne talks at one point about how Worrell's style involved being somewhat invisible, which makes it hard to tout) in a full and accurate context.

The other big issue is that "Stranger" tap dances around questions that are alluded to in regards to Worrell's career and life.  It's clear that he's not what you would call successful (financially), and it's stated that he was on the tail end of the generation of musicians that were pretty much ripped off wholesale.  It's kind of shown that he's unstable (not exactly the right word, but it's ballpark), but the exact reason isn't ever given.  They say that he drinks, and smokes, but it's otherwise un-addressed.  And Worrell himself doesn't seem to allow much insight; nearly all of the footage of him is either on stage or quietly existing.  I'm not saying that every documentary needs to be a warts-and-all depiction, but when the other musicians are lamenting his inability to get things done within the confines of the existing record industry, there's a big pink elephant tap dancing in the room right behind each of them.  What exactly is the problem?  If neither the filmmaker, his friends, nor Worrell himself are willing to be honest about that, it's something that probably shouldn't have been brought up at all.

Maybe it sounds like I'm being really harsh on this film.  I'm glad it exists, that someone decided to shine a (flash)light on Worrell and his music.  I grew up on rap music that was based on his work (Digital Underground, in particular).  For what it is, it's enjoyable.  But it also either expects too much knowledge out of a viewer or just doesn't care to explain itself if you're not already knee-deep in the P-Funk catalog.  And, no full songs is a deal-breaker for me in any music documentary, particularly when the inclusion of not even a handful would have taken this from being a short film to nearly a feature-length.  It's a weirdly antagonistic stance to take towards more casual fans (or people who might not know who he is by name).  Even long-time fans would appreciate the chance to kick back and luxuriate in the work of what is billed over and over in this film as a musical genius.

2.5 / 5 - Streaming