Notes from LFF: Dragonslayer (Tristan Patterson, USA, 2011)

If I Wish (Kore-eda Hirokazu, Japan, 2011) only obliquely situates itself within the context of the current global economic downturn, Dragonslayer does so in a much more overt fashion.

Or rather, hearing director Tristan Patterson discussing the project, the very first thing that he said was that his subject, bum-like, nearing middle-age skater dude Joshua ‘Skreech’ Sandoval, was an amazingly intriguing character given that he just skates through the world as around him everyone’s lives – in the USA at least – are turned upside down thanks to the post-crisis fallout and its effects on the man in the street.

Like the would-be rock star father in I Wish, Sandoval gets by doing what he can: he works as little as possible, he gets – seemingly minimal – sponsorship for his skating, he smokes (a lot) of weed, he drinks, he is friendly to all and sundry, and he travels (in whatever capacity he can).

Sandoval emerges as a figurehead of the not-so-much angry generation as the don’t-give-a-fuck generation. Let me be clear about what this ‘generation’ (if it is one) does not give a fuck. This generation seemingly does give a fuck about the world, as Sandoval’s insistent trips into nature to go camping and fishing suggest.

That about which Sandoval and others do not give a fuck is the current organisation of the human world. That is, questions of economics, perhaps also of politics, interest Sandoval, and presumably many more like him, so little, that he is just happy getting by in his own way as he can.

This position has a romanticism of its own: a middle-class viewer like me truly fears for Sandoval, as perhaps does he himself, when, come the film’s end, it is documented that he is now working (at least part-time) serving beer in a bowling alley. How can he survive, not least since he has a young infant in tow, on the bare minimum that he currently has?

But perhaps how is the wrong question, and a real reason to admire Sandoval. How is not important. The only important thing is that he will survive – no matter how hard the world is made for him as a result of the choices he has made so far (economic imprisonment based upon ‘economic crimes’ that are not illegal at all, but which will keep Sandoval from material wealth for as long as he lives unless either he changes or he breaks – miraculously – into Hollywood or some such).

Beyond Sandoval and some unanswered questions regarding his relationship to the film (his – perhaps unlikely and younger – girlfriend, Leslie Brown, starts going out with him during filming – and whether the presence of the cameras has anything to do with this is not explored; similarly, given his economic situation, one wonders whether the filmmakers had any performance money to give to Sandoval), the film is well shot.

Patterson and his cinemtographer, Eric Koretz, said that they did not want the film to look like a skater movie. Only it is hard not to look like a skater movie given the light qualities of southern California that play such an important part in skater culture (and which has been co-opted by Coke, etc).

It is furthermore hard not to look like a skater movie when the film features so many obligatory emptied swimming pools.

And yet, Koretz and Patterson are not using mobile fish-eyes (although they do use the indy rock soundtrack), and they are capturing blades of grass, fluffy toys hanging from rear view mirrors and the like.

In short, then, Dragonslayer cannot but be a skater film – but it also is, as implied by the discussion of Sandoval’s seeming ethos/philosophy above, an activist – or perhaps better, a comtemporary beat – film.

Beyond the cinematography, this is evoked most formally in the editing. The film has a schizoid feel thanks to its insistence on (Godard-style) cutting short musical segments before they can become the obligatory music video, and the often chaotic juxtaposition of impressionistic images. This all caged by an 11-chapter structure that runs from 10 down to 0 over the course of the film. 0.

L’œuf, the egg, or what tennis umpires call love.

Sandoval’s dream is to be the only person moving on a planet stilled in time. He can empty pools and skate, raid fridges, drive other people’s cars. Just go wherever he wants to (there is a strong emphasis in the film on Sandoval jumping over fences – the wilful making-common of an otherwise increasingly privatised terrain).

While Sandoval does say that in this fantasy world he’d make some people wake up to hang out with him (how would he choose?), his vision does sound more like a desire for solipsism, or to be the One in a planet full of otherwise disposable human beings.

But 1 always needs 0 (hence the digital image’s democratic possibility for 1+0). And it is pleasing that the film takes us to 0. Not because it favours annihilation over anything/everything. Not because this is a negative choice in comparison to the possibility of an additive world in which the numbers just get bigger and bigger.

But perhaps because 0 is the only way to get back to the ground and to extend a sophophily of love. Not the love of wisdom, but the wisdom of loving.

Sandoval is perhaps an anti-hero of our times. But in others he is just a plain hero. Even with his bowling alley job, the Quixotic elements seem to remain as he takes a hit from the bong on the way to work.

We don’t all need to be dope smoking stoner skater dudes. That surely cannot be the message here. But the message clearly is: we must have the courage, the love of ourselves and of others, to go forward into the world in a fearless fashion. To be ourselves.

The self is a performance, no doubt about it. But it is a performance into which one injects one’s heart and soul, hence its courageous nature. Nothing disingenuous here.

Indeed, one of Sandoval’s friends, a total stoner who seems barely coherent, speaks of reading Spinoza’s Ethics. Spinoza here emerges as a great reference point for the film. For Spinoza argues (in my reading of him at least) that if truly we become ourselves, we cannot but love others and the world that surrounds us.

You can Occupy wherever you like. But the success of this movement can only begin with the occupying of oneself with oneself, filling oneself up with one’s own understanding and vision of the world, such that it can only spill over into the commons with love and respect.

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About wjrcbrown

I am a Lecturer in Film at Roehampton University. I am a sort of filmmaker.
This entry was posted in American cinema, Documentary, Film reviews, London Film Festival 2011, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Notes from LFF: Dragonslayer (Tristan Patterson, USA, 2011)

  1. Borbie says:

    nearing middle age? He’s 25!

  2. john says:

    This guy is a douche. straight up. He seems like a dead beat who has nothing better to do than to drink and smoke weed. how can someone watch such pathetic filming. I know about this clown and let me say…LOSER

    • wjrcbrown says:

      Dear John

      You are of course entitled to express your opinions, which I welcome. Some people might consider a life of smoking weed and drinking, however, as all that one should aim for in life. Or, to put that in a less controversial fashion, one should live for the moment.

      I offer an allegorical story to you as an illustration of this (and which was passed on to me recently by my friend, ODC):

      Starts:

      An American tourist was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked.

      Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The tourist complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.

      The Mexican replied, “Only a little while.”

      The tourist then asked, “Why didn’t you stay out longer and catch more fish?”

      The Mexican said, “With this I have more than enough to support my family’s needs.”

      The tourist then asked, “But what do you do with the rest of your time?”

      The Mexican fisherman said, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos, I have a full and busy life.”

      The tourist scoffed, ” I can help you. You should spend more time fishing; and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat: With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor; eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You could leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles and eventually New York where you could run your ever-expanding enterprise.”

      The Mexican fisherman asked, “But, how long will this all take?”

      The tourist replied, “15 to 20 years.”

      “But what then?” asked the Mexican.

      The tourist laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time is right you would sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions.”

      “Millions?…Then what?”

      The American said, “Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.”
      Ends

      Perhaps Sandoval is our Mexican fisherman. His life is his life to lead as he wishes to – and so resolutely does he believe this that he is not cowed by the pressure to conform. This is a mark of individuality in a world of conformity.

      I’m not saying that Sandoval the man is *the* example to follow – but the point is precisely that there is no example to follow. If we follow at all, then we are less ‘ourselves’ and more what others expect us to be. It is not what Sandoval does, then, that is great; it is that he does his own thing that he becomes an intriguing and very interesting character to consider and to take seriously.

      If you have read this, John, and feel like replying in a fashion as judgemental as your first comment, then think hard this time about how you express yourself. That is, explain why you feel the way that you do about Sandoval and, puzzlingly by extension, the film… In the same way that you yourself would perhaps not want to be dismissed out of hand as a human being who is not worthy of the name, maybe it is wise not to do so to someone like Sandoval (if wisdom is a virtue that you feel has any merit, that is).

  3. spike says:

    No, John is right, he’s a total douche. Doesnt give a shit about anyone else but himself, I wouldnt be suprised if that dumbass had aids

    • wjrcbrown says:

      Thank you, Spike, for your considered and articulate response. Should you ever meet anyone with AIDS, I’d be interested to know how they react to your calling them a ‘dumbass,’ which is what I presume you will say to their face like the true diplomat that you seem to be. Either way, I am writing on the Sandoval as he features in the film, not Sandoval the brain-in-skinbag in the flesh world to which you seem to be referring.

      • John says:

        I am sure you have never met the kid wjrcbrown. I can tell you this…they say hes “struggling” when he gets in trouble with the law and does dumb things. He isn’t struggling, the kids a joke, This Josh kid IS a dumbass. Thats that!

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