Geekscape Movie Reviews: Repo Chick
Alex Cox is mad in both senses of the word. He was something of a filmmaking darling in the 1980s, having made the bugnuts crazy, punkrock sci-fi miracle that is “Repo Man,” and he garnered huge amounts of critical praise for his apocalyptic biopic of Sid Vicious “Sid & Nancy.” Even his maligned “Straight to Hell” is admired as a cult hit, and has been recently restored, and is making small circles around the country. In 1987, though, he made “Walker,” a scathing anachronistic criticism of Reagan’s presence in Granada starring Ed Harris as a mad American imperialist enslaving the native Granadans in the 19th century.
“Walker,” despite its daring conceits and wonderfully insane tone, achieved a kind of infamy in critical circles, and Cox intentionally exiled himself from the Hollywood system. So much the better, he thought. He always preferred having control over his own projects anyway.
The films he has made since 1987 have all been relatively low-budget and extremely high-concept (f’rinstance “Searchers 2.0,” a spiritual sequel to the John Wayne film, “The Revenger’s Tragedy” a film version of an obscure, blood-soaked Elizabethan play), or they have been co-opted attempts at reintegration into the filmmaking community (“The Winner”). Cox is angered and outraged by the poor reception of his films, and baffled as to why people don’t understand his chaotic vision. As the years have passed, he’s grown increasingly reclusive, having moved into a cabin in the Oregon woods, pretty much entirely off the grid.
For years, Cox has wanted to make a sequel to “Repo Man,” and who can blame him. In my mind, “Repo Man” remains his best film, and stands a s a cult hit for the ages. If you haven’t seen his alien-infused film of seedy criminals, desperate, sweaty repo men, and crime-obsessed punk rockers, you are missing out on the clarion call of an entire subculture that is cooler than you are. At one point, Cox wrote a sequel called “Waldo’s Hawaiian Holiday,” and came close to obtaining funds, but deals fell through. Luckily, the screenplay was adapted into comic form by Chris Bones and Justin Randall, and can be found at any of your more holistic comic book shops. As a sequel, “Waldo’s Hawaiian Holiday” is amazing as it captures the desperation for money, the Sisyphusian struggle of the working man living in an urban hellhole, and the mindfudging apocalyptic sci-fi conceits that made the original so notable.
Eventually, the quasi-sequel he always wanted to make got made, in the form of “Repo Chick,” now available on home video from Industrial Entertainment. Let’s take a look shall we?
I’m often impressed with low-budget filmmaking, and I admire any filmmakers who can take their limited resources, and still make a taut drama. I’m sad to report, then, that “Repo Chick” is one of those instances where the film’s low budget actually stands in the way of its drama. The story is crazy enough, and many of the actors really dig into their parts with a glee often unseen in smaller indie films. But Cox, in what may be budgetary reasons, filmed the entirety of “Repo Chick” on soundstages against greenscreens. There were a few sets built, and a few stylistic flourishes to indicate that the mad genius is still alive somewhere behind that camera (most notably, a set of an industrial lab, filmed in black and white), but for the most part, we’re stuck with that frustratingly static mode of filmmaking that comes with a small space, and actors interacting independently of their surroundings.
Also, one would think that with the American economy burning to the ground, that a Coxian comment of Repo Men would somehow stand as a bold, comic political statement, commenting on the amok consumerism that has marked the greediest of the Wall Street scrotums that have licked other people’s coffers clean. It will disappoint you to learn that Cox wrote “Repo Chick” before the fall of 2008, and the comment remains absent.
The story follows a Paris Hilton-like celebutant named Pixxi De La Chasse (the ebullient Jaclyn Jonet) after she is disinherited from her blueblood family (represented by a gleefully fey Xander Berkeley and the voluptuous horror of Karen Black). She falls in with her suckup retarded punk rock wastoid friends, and manages to land a job as a repossessor for the seedy Arizona Grey (Miguel Sandoval), his smarmy sidekick (an unrecognizable Robert Beltran), and the tough-talking leather marm Lola (Rosanna Arquette). Pixxi finds that she has a wonderful talent for repossession, having repossessed a few dozen cars, some trailers, airplanes and a shopping mall, all within a week. This makes her a hero to her peers.
Jonet, in the lead role, has a lot to carry, and she manages to bring a gleeful ignorance to Pixxi that is fun to watch. I just wish she had bantered with the other characters better. In the original, there is a stellar scene in which Harry Dean Stanton gives an impassioned speech to Emilio Estevez about the importance of the Repo Man in the world, and how Repo Men serve as the lynch pin for all civilization. Pixxi does not get to hear such a speech in “Repo Chick.” The cathartic moment never comes.
Eventually, just like the radioactive Cadillac from the first film, a magical treasure comes into view, in the form of four vintage train cars, which may or may not be the headquarters of a secret anti-golf cadre (led by Del Zamora, the only actor from the original to return), and may or may not contain a powerful bomb.
This setup may sound exciting and punkrock, but is paced strangely, and presented in an off-kilter fashion that keeps the proceedings largely opaque. I admire the aplomb that some of the actors gave, and appreciate that Cox wanted to make his film big and weird, but I wish the film had been, well, sloppier. I would take Alex Cox to be the kind of person who would take to the streets with shoulder-mounted cameras, shooting on the fly, guerrilla style, under the nose of the Los Angeles police, the MPAA, and any other authority figure that pissed him off. I’m not sure how comfortable he is shooting in studios against greenscreens, using animated sequences for his exteriors. “Repo Chick” may have the crazy story and the oddball coincidences of Cox’ ineffable punkrock madness, but I sorely miss his balls-out fuck-you attitude. “Repo Chick” is the product of a man who believes his own myth, but doesn’t seem to have the same kind of wherewithal 25 years after the fact. He’s a little more off balance. A little more nutty. And, sadly, has different resources to work with.
Something that kind of worked in the film’s favor was its use of a model train instead of a real one. Cox shot an HO-scale train, and had it serve as the exteriors of the films’ central repossessed object. I liked the shabbiness of this trick. It was used a little too much, but it, at the very least, lent “Repo Chick” an aesthetic.
If you are a lover of Cox’s films, then by all means, seek out “Repo Chick.” If you’re not, it could lead you into the arms of a cult master you may not know about. But both parties should know, though, that this film may serve more as a curio in the man’s canon, than as a solid representation of his strengths. Seek out “Repo Man,” though. And “Sid & Nancy.” And “Straight to Hell.” And the maligned “Walker.” I can even recommend “The Revenger’s Tragedy.” The tale of Cox’s career is a varied tale of resentment and madness. “Repo Chick” may not be great in itself, but serves as a fascinating object lesson.
