I've reviewed a fair number of films in my career, but nothing has
left me so disappointed as this. As a viewer, I felt deceived, and as a
consumer, I felt confused. Maybe it was all the hype in a name like
"Everything is Everything",
though just as likely it was my half-rack of Red Dog making me
cross-eyed. Who can be sure?
The film, produced by Studio 8
Productions, bills itself as a comedy mockumentary. This is
hopefully just a compromise between the creative powers and their crack
legal team. Hopefully crack indicates their skills rather than their
medication of choice, but I doubt it more than highly, if you catch my
less-than-subtle pun.
Throughout the film, I often found myself laughing, though I assert it
wasn't because it was a comedy so much as because the filmmakers
apparently hate real people with all their earthy, real people ways. My
laughter could as easily be interpreted as early-onset alcohol
poisoning, but that's not the point. From the would-be hillbilly film
director Russ Cagle to the crime-fighting Justin Justice to the holiday
harmonies churned out by the prolific, national-anthem-rewriting Dale
Kernie, I simply know better. These guys aren't characters in a comedy,
they're real people and the mockumentery label is a mockery to us, them,
and all that we each stand for... respectively.
And confused? Oh my yes. The film's distributor,
First Look Rentals shows
the official release date as 2004, but Studio 8 has it listed as 2003.
Come on guys, which is it? I can't properly review this film without
knowing whether to call it the Greatest Film Injustice of 2003 or 2004!
The soundtrack is spectacularly loaded with original music, which is no
surprise considering Studio 8 has already produced many albums for
various artists. Furthermore, the DVD is uncommonly full-featured, which
won't surprise anyone who knows their professional reputation. Still,
the deception of the suggestion that it's less than completely factual
still leaves me nauseous. Again, critics may counter that it's the beer
talking, even backing up into my esophagus a bit, but it just ain't so.
Let's clear the air a bit, star by gleaming star. The first character
introduced to us is Russell Cagle, an aspiring documentarian eager to
make sharks attack boats (a noble cause indeed) who understands that you
have to start somewhere humble, with things you know...or at least would
like to know but don't know yet. He's an honest man, to the camera if
not to his ladies, shooting a documentary about Abraham Lincoln (played
by up-and-coming star actor and illegal immigrant Ron Rico), yet the
producers of “Everything is Everything” portray him as a bungling fool.
Maybe it's 'bumbling', but in either case it's heartbreaking. Okay, he
knows nothing about Lincoln’s life, but James Cameron knew nothing about
terminator robots from the future before shooting his documentary about
the impending Judgment Day. People learn through experience, yet these
guys portray Mr. Cagle as a bumpkinny boob who mooches off his family
and a series of hot, inbred women. Why? Because the people at Studio 8
are a bunch of bastards.
Next we'll discuss Dale Kernie. I'm not gay or anything, but that dude
takes his bad hair, warbly-crackling voice, and artistic sensitivity and
packages it into the most masculine fanny-pack a straight man could ever
wear. Anyone could change the world if they could sing on tape like they
sing in the shower. Dale learned this from Barney Rubble and actually
brought the studio to the bathroom. Hokey? Hell yes, but don't let the
stench of digested jambalaya and Ajax cloud your mind, this is pure
genius at work.
Dale has the heart to sing about holidays most of us don't even buy
cards for. Maybe it's laughable to some that his aunt designs his
wardrobe and thinks he's still twelve. Maybe his aspirations are overly
grand to think his music can change the world, but is it? He's changed
my world and I still insist that I'm not gay. But the people at Studio 8
are.
Then we come to Justin Justice. Maybe his contract demanded that they
pretend he's not real, but I think all the while they just jerked his
chain along the long and lonesome road of abject mockery. His chain,
like our chains, have been jerked good and hard with nary a drop of KY
in sight. To take a famous underground hero and advocate for the people
and make him out as an eccentric disappointment to his mother is no less
than a slap to the face to freedom-lovers across this great land. Of
course his mom thinks he's a big zero; she can't be allowed to know the
truth. To do so would make her an easy target for any number of crime
syndicates and super villains.
Justin Justice is listed by the Baton Rouge Council for Tourism as the
third bullet-point of reasons to visit that historic town. Being listed
just beneath "less dangerous than Detroit" and "why not?" seems
irrelevant since much hilarity is enjoyed at his expense. I pray he's as
patient and forgiving in real life as he is in film. If it was me in
baggy pants and a snug skullcap, I'd take my war on crime to a city less
inclined to make a joke of it, no matter how enjoyable and
cheek-cramping that joke may be. The people at Studio 8 should be slowly
killed.
If you’re an animal, vegetable or mineral of principal, this is no film
for you. But if you're the type who finds the Special Olympics to be the
funniest thing since shoving old people into bushes, then go ahead and
see it. You people would probably even like it.
Mock my words though, if this film isn't real, then neither is Jerry
Springer, and the people on that show are way dumber and slightly better
paid for their performances.
