Machete (2010)
Directed by Robert Rodriguez
Written by Robert Rodriguez
Starring Danny Trejo, Jessica Alba, Michelle Rodriguez, Robert De Niro, Lindsay Lohan
Release Date September 3rd, 2010
Published September 4th, 2010
“Machete” is a film that is impervious to criticism. One cannot critique the filmmaking; it's supposed to be grungy and low budget to evoke its 70's influences. One cannot critique the acting, everyone in the film is supposed to be over the top and utterly ludicrous to match the unfortunate amateurs who played these roles back in the original Grindhouse days. You cannot criticize the storyline because really, what story is there? And since you are not supposed to treat any of this with seriousness as that would undermine the audacious, humorous homage to trash, one really can’t then take seriously anything in the film's take on the immigration issue?
“Machete” is basically Robert Rodriguez masturbating on screen. Yes, masturbation seems to be the foremost concern of “Machete” or rather director Robert Rodriguez who puts his deepest carnal desires on screen, revealing himself in both brave and disturbing fashion. Like his cohorts Eli Roth and Quentin Tarantino, Rodriguez gets off on guns and blood but unlike Roth and with slightly less awe than Tarantino, Rodriguez throws a few near naked girls in the mix.
Is it strange to watch a grown man put his teenage boy sex fantasies on screen? Oh yeah, a big part of me has absolutely no want to know what it is that gets Robert Rodriguez off. But, there is also a part of me that is sickly entertained because some of his fantasies, Ms. Alba in particular, are my fantasies as well. I, however, do not get off on violence the way Rodriguez does. I don't mind the skillful demonstration of violence on screen but the ways in which Rodriguez and his man/boy directing brethren enjoy the violence is disturbing and makes me worry a little for their collective mental health.
In a review of “Hostel” for another website years ago I wondered; if Eli Roth were not a filmmaker capable of demonstrating his sickest fantasies on screen would he have become a serial murderer? I have the same concerns with Mr. Rodriguez after watching “Machete” but to a slightly lesser extent.
The difference between the two is Rodriguez has an interest in women, even if only a puerile one, Mr. Roth only seems to enjoy torture, maiming and death. Dragging their mentor Mr. Tarantino into this conversation is unnecessary, his interest seems to be purely cinema and what his camera's eye is capable of, what the camera captures serves a very particular and highly cinematic vision. Rodriguez and Roth are teenage boys using the camera as a masturbatory device for their incurable twisted fantasies.
“Machete” boils down to a demonstration of what 13 year old Robert Rodriguez found on a VHS tape years ago and got off to. Whether it was Gordon Parks or Melvin Van Peebles, William Girdler (look him up, I did) or Arthur Marx, Rodriguez found tapes of Foxy Brown or Sweet Sweetback or Shaft and it got him off. Now he’s making the movies that get him off.
I’m not a prude, I have the same male urge for self gratification that every other red blooded American male has. I merely prefer to confine my fantasies to my bedroom. Mr. Rodriguez places his fantasies in giant multiplex theaters and I find that awkward and disturbing.
I mean, if this were a true homage to Grindhouse, one would have to stumble upon it in some woebegone, out of the way second hand shop. Not in the gleaming, popcorn scented world in which the theater next door is showing Toy Story 3. “Machete” belongs on a store shelf next to Faster Pussycat Kill Kill or anything by Herschel Gordon Lewis. There it could be discovered and passed around from friend to friend.
That’s my issue, that’s what has been nagging at me about “Machete.” Treating this like any other major movie release just feels wrong. It’s supposed to be underground where some teenager can dust it off, slip into his jacket pocket and steal it out of the store while the manager is helping a customer buy porn.
The kid should sneak “Machete” home, wait for his parents to go to bed and slip it in and enjoy it as it should be enjoyed. The next day he takes it to school and passes it from friend to friend until one of them gets caught with it and it spends the next decade in a school filing cabinet waiting to be rediscovered or sold at some teacher’s garage sale.
Placing “Machete” in theater taints the true experience. The bloody, gory, twisted violence, the childish over the top sex, simply does not belong in the same building where Jennifer Aniston is starring in The Switch. The milieu degrades and depraves the experience and makes “Machete” impossible to enjoy without feeling more than a little creepy and weird.
