Armchair Critic: Jackass Number Two

This weekend past I journeyed to the local cinema to take in a screening of a recent film called Jackass Number Two. I knew very little about the movie before sitting down in the theater, though it is my understanding that it is a sequel to an earlier production. After being transfixed for the better part of two hours as I drank in the sociological commentary of this film, rest assured that I will be seeking out the first chapter in this epic saga with all due haste.

Jackass Number Two is filmed with a cinéma vérité style that is reminicent of Cassavetes or Wiseman, taken to the bleeding edge where the lines between documentary and drama are blurred. The cast (so dedicated to their art that they go uncredited, listed only by the names of the characters they portray) is a cross-section representing a truly global culture. Like the Oscar winner Crash before it, Jackass Number Two weaves a series of disparate vignettes together as the lives of its main characters intersect in unexpected ways.

It is fitting that this film was released just as the Academy Awards season begins to heat up, for it leaves an impression that is sure to shine through a field of imitators. Rest assured that Jackass Number Two will be remembered on the night that Oscar shines bright.

The lead character, known as “Johnny Knoxville,” is the emotional centerpiece of the film, tying the supporting cast together. Knoxville’s courage in the face of pressing danger cannot help but inspire the viewer; the recurring theme of bullfighting recalls Rosario Flores’ classic portrayal of Lydia in Hable con ella.

The classic everyman, Knoxville acts as the spiritual compass that guides the other characters to enlightenment. The gripping scene in which he forces his friend “Bam” to face his self doubt (visualized as the archetypal fear of snakes) cuts through all pretense and artifice. By the end of the scene, Bam has passed through this crucible and emerges as a phoenix reborn.

Nor is the film lacking in cutting-edge social commentary. When “Steve-O” punctures his cheek with a fish hook (a scene that is due a special-effects nomination in its own right), he becomes bait in a sea of sharks, clearly personifying youthful idealism in an ocean of overcommercialization. A film that offers such a strong emotional core while making the viewer think about weighty social issues is rare indeed.

In the world of Jackass Number Two, horse semen and human feces are used with aplomb to satirize our anachronistic modern culture. The dangling bare breasts of an anonymous old woman speak volumes about our treatment of our elderly citizens.

Filmmaker Jeff Tremaine succeeds where the likes of Altman and Tarantino have fallen short, seamlessly blending an iconic cast with interconnecting backstories that are tantalizingly hinted at throughout the producton. Few other directors would have the courage to crystalize our culture’s fear of terrorism as Tremaine does in the movie’s penultimate scene, let alone to follow it up with a musical closer that serves as a catharsis for every viewer.

A rough jewel in a landscape of over-polished sameness, Jackass Number Two deserves to stand out in the eyes of the Academy. It is this critic’s hope that it inspires a new generation of filmmakers to take similar risks that provide as inspiringly rich results.