Bomb the System

Directed by Adam Bhala Lough
Written by Adam Bhala Lough

In the stairwell of my building there is an old closet door, probably removed from an apartment one or two renovations ago, left by the stairs and thoroughly forgotten. As I pass this old door leaning against the wall week after week on my way to and from the laundry room on 3, I’m noticing that one of my fellow residents has taken to writing on it, the markings growing greater in number, and greater in graphic sexuality, as the weeks pass. The weird thing is that as increasingly bold and sexual the graffiti gets, it is always on, and only on, this old closet door, the walls around the rest of the stairwell retaining their dingy, dusty off-white, making me think that as incredibly disturbed (you should see some of this stuff) and misguided as this kid (and he’s got to be a kid – again, you should see some of this stuff) is, he remains strangely considerate and respectful of his fellow residents by limiting his perverse writing to only this loose, forgotten, and easily disposed of closet door. Weird.

I wonder what would this kid make of Adam Bhala Lough's Bomb the System? Hard enough to sort out my own feelings for this particular piece of cinema.

The few things I’d heard about this new movie intrigued me enough to justify the trek up to Cinema Village on Friday evening (ever since I switched from the monthly subway pass back to paying per ride, it’s been harder and harder for me to get my cheap ass anywhere above, say, Canal Street). With the buzz this film has been generating in certain circles, I went into the theater prepared to feel thoroughly unhip. This was not helped by the fact that I appeared to be the only one in attendance who was not either actively involved in or friends with someone who was actively involved in the production.

Story: Anthony/BLEST (Mark Webber) and his friends Justin/BUCK50 (Gano Grills) and Kevin/LUNE (Jade Yorker) spend their nights writing graffiti along the streets of Lower Manhattan, partying, and dodging the Vandal Squad of the NYPD, as personified by the ex-graff-writer-gone-straight Shorts (Bonz Malone) and the corrupt and increasingly violent Bobby Cox (Al Sapienza). Though Anthony lives a seemingly charmed life within the graffiti subculture (his works and exploits are well-known, if not legendary, in and among his fellow graff-writers, and he has free room and board in the apartment of his friend Hazer (Joey Dedio), a soap actor on Telemundo), he still feels that he’s living in the shadow of his brother, another famous graff-writer who actually died while on a “bombing” expedition twelve years ago. After the Vandal Squad violently harasses the young Kevin, Justin is ready to declare war on the city, on the police, and especially on Bobby Cox. Anthony, however, is distracted by two new things in his life: his acceptance into an art college in San Francisco (and the accompanying possibility of going straight, i.e. selling out) and his new girlfriend Alex (Jaclyn DeSantis), who comes with both her own style of graffiti and her own beliefs in how to use it to change society.

So, will Anthony sell out by leaving for art school, channel his energy and talent into making a difference, or continue down the same path as his brother? His ultimate choice, and his ultimate fate, don’t make a whole lot of sense, either to the story or even to the rest of this film (when you see it, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about).

It’s hard to dislike a movie so pure in its intentions, and according to the people sitting in my theater, everything apparently rang true, that graff writers truly are the unsung, existential philosopher poet kings of New York that this film would have them be rather than, you know, vandals. Still, Lough's utterly cartoonish portrayal of the Vandal Squad was bothersome, and I didn’t see any cops standing up to say how accurate their portrayal was. Still, the cast of mostly unknowns (truly the only recognizable face here is Kumar from the Wes Anderson movies, though it was later pointed out to me that Mark Webber was the guy who played Scooby in Todd Solondz’s Storytelling, and Jade Yorker played the younger Jesus in Spike Lee’s He Got Game) did an excellent job with the little material they had. Unfortunately, the characters they play fairly one dimensional, and Lough doesn't really give them much to do, either - life (at least my life) is so much more about the bleary-eyed morning after than it is about the wild night before.

The character of the cop called Shortz is potentially interesting, possibly deserving of his own movie, as he waxes poetical about the importance of graffiti among the underprivileged, disaffected youth of the city, but never justifies why he would choose to turn around and persecute said writers with such gusto.

I’m not there, so I don’t know. If this movie is about you, you’ll likely enjoy seeing yourself and your friends vindicated on the big screen. If you’re like me, you’ll see little more than a disjointed and uneven story about kids who would rather be hated than anonymous. Which would make them sort of the equivalent of those people who talk at the movies, right? I mean, those people who go to the movies just to talk and to be annoying.

Which leads me to my new pet project: Run, Girl!, the definitive film examining the exciting and sometimes dangerous subculture of theater-talkers. I've already cut a trailer, which I will describe to you here:

Fade in:

A darkened, crowded movie theater. Everyone is trying their best to ignore the small group of kids in the front row, dancing, yakking on their cell phones TO EACH OTHER, throwing things, jumping between rows.

MISGUIDED WUSSY THEATERGOER: Excuse me, could you please be quiet?
OUR HEROINE: I CAN TALK HERE IF I WANT!

Cut to our heroine sitting in a generic “authority” office – could be for a guidance counselor, a store detective, etc.

CONCERNED AUTHORITY FIGURE: You have a gift, girl. The gift of observational comedy. You could be a stand-up comedienne, or a writer for television.

Cut to another darkened, crowded theater. This time the group is watching the movie, but screaming things at the screen, laughing and pointing inappropriately.

Cut to our heroine and a TEENAGED BOY on the street outside the theater.

BOY: Hey, I like your jokes. What’s your name?

Cut to our heroine’s Urban Outfitters-decked out bedroom. Our heroine and the teenaged boy make out passionately. He pulls off her shirt.

Cut to our heroine and her TIRED MOTHER at the breakfast table.

OUR HEROINE: Talking in the theater is the only thing that’s ever meant anything to me!

TIRED MOTHER slaps our heroine.

TIRED MOTHER: I had to sit by and watch what theater talking did to your brother, I’ll be DAMNED if I have to sit by and watch the same thing happen to you!

Cut to our heroine and the teenaged boy on the street outside the theater.

BOY: How can you even THINK of giving up now? This is the night we’ve been waiting for all our lives!

Cut to the inside of the darkened, crowded theater. Our heroine is pulled out of her seat and dragged up the aisle by the THEATER USHER.

OUR HEROINE: NOOOOOOOOO!!!

Run, Girl! Come on, it's brilliant. Someone give me a million bucks, and this movie will be coming to a theater near you shortly.