I love the work of Anthony Lane, the film critic for The New Yorker, more than I’ll ever love Speed Racer. The Speed Racer movie, the most recent offering by the Wachowski Brothers, was said by Mr. Lane to be not-so-great (though not-so-bad as V for Vendetta). He emphasized his thoughts on the film by saying it was “of no conceivable interest to anyone over the age of ten,” and finished off his review with this smarting parental advice: “To me, it felt like Pop fascism, and I would keep them well away.”

After the jump, our man Christopher Tucker ponders whether or not pop facism is necessarily a bad thing.

I’ll agree with him about the plot. The story in the film Speed Racer is derived from an oddly familiar fascist plotline. But the thing about fascism is that there is a certain element of chance that is always involved in the fix. It’s a shame to grow up and learn about set-ups that you theretofore assumed happened through a naturally occurring course of events. And it’s a challenge these days to not be a nihilist because of it. Everything is so fucking full of shit that it’s almost impossible to believe in anything. Even the slightest victory against fascism is a bit like watching a bug die on your windshield. The bug might be your inner-self on a kamakazi mission to send your actual-self a message to quit driving your car because you’re killing the world each day you buy and put petrol in your car. But you’re not going to quit driving, you fascist pig! You’re going to pick up your fascist children and go to your fascist job and make fascist money to put fascist petrol in your fascist car and drive your fascist ass home and eat fascist food from fascist big box corporate retail stores. What is the alternative to this fascism? Nihilism. Life is as simple as two peas in a bucket, Chuck: Fuck it. I’m gonna buy that box of Tuna Pasta from Target® tonight and we’re going to cook that mercury from the can of tuna in a big fat saucepan and like it because we know it’s not even there or maybe it is but either way we know somebody is lying about our condition, shape, and our health in a circuitous and stealth-like effort to get our money.

So, now, what with this fascist plot and a son who wants to see Speed Racer, I have a dilemma on my hands. I’ll explain. I have a long history with the number 5. I have a tattoo of it (sorry, but that’s not a joke). I have a big huge number 5 mounted on my acoustic guitar. Around my house you will find various items with the number 5 on them ranging from coat racks, to espresso cups, to pins, jackets, and anything else I can procure with the number 5 on it. While this is not a result of Speed Racer’s car the Mach 5, it is arguable that the Japanimation cartoon has a parenthetically psychological something to do with it. At least as arguable as the fact that Red 5 destroyed the Death Star. So I went with my son who is, incidentally, 5 years old, to see Speed Racer the Sunday before last.

When you’re introducing your child to fascism, is it better to break it to them later in life or to bring it on home and explain it all later like a divorce at an early age? I sat there thinking about this because, of course, I couldn’t wait to read Anthony Lane’s review of the film, as well as its preconceived notions, were swimming about in my head like mercury in a tuna swimming in Wal-Mart sponsored LEED® certified build-your-own-backyard-salwater-pond. Feeling fascisted® (ouch!) and otherwise beaten, I suddenly noticed a sequence in the film that took me to another place. I wasn’t really there in a theater with my kid but I was in an apartment in Long Beach California with my little sister who was in a high chair throwing brussel sprouts across the room. The swinging sights of the 1977 Panasonic television had the characters attacking each other with that weird scrolling background. Then I noticed that same sequence, in the theater, updated for the cinema-of-today. And I thought about things like plots. The losing of plots. The finding of plots. The absence of plots. And I looked at my kid and realized that the plot in the movie really didn’t matter as much as the memory of the moment. At which time I sat and cherished that little moment with my son who sat watching the same sequence with the scrolling background, though updated, the way I did when I was just five years old.

With the plot not mattering, I got back to watching the film. And I rather enjoyed it. I quit thinking about the supplier for the butter on the popcorn and the manufacturer of the cleaning products and who gathered the political arm to build a movie theater in the first place and who got their palm greased to grandfather in the city permits to get the job done. I just sat there peacefully. Watching the film. And Speed Racer took on those fascists and beat the motherfuckers! With all my nihilistic tendencies thereby squelched, and disagreeing with Anthony Lane for the first time in like eight years, I was once again reminded of one of my favorite Philadelphia adages: It’s all about moments.

— Christopher Tucker

Find theaters and showtimes for Speed Racer at philebrity.com/movietimes.

Previously: On-The-Scene Report: The Cure At The Wachovia Spectrum

This entry was posted on Friday, May 30th, 2008 at 1:42 pm.