Totally F***ed Up

This film was great...I thought it showed the disenchanted at a level that was easy to identify with, especially for young queers. low budget movies always seem a bit cheezy but it brings them down to a level which is easily understood by the general populace. (sounds patronising I know, but it's a fact). It showed a bit of light in a lost world and is easily my favorite Araki film. The characters were great, the cinematography, while sometimes a bit hard on the eye, was interesting for me as a young film maker...it was also easy for me to identify with, although I'm in a totally different cultural climate and country from where this was filmed, growing attached to these characters was easy for me because I've been there and felt that, no matter how cheezy it is to say. I wonder one day if I can make a film as good as this...I want to give a bit of hope back to my generation and generations to come of young queers and let them know that there are others out there who feel the same way, give them a little hope in this dark.

Tracing the progress of innovative filmmakers is a pleasure for movie buffs. Gregg Araki developed a unique voice in film in the early 1990s (this film dates back to 1993), a voice that maintained a sense of immediacy with his actors who he directed with his hand held camera in a manner that gave the illusion that the 'script' was extemporaneous. Careful not to assign controversial roles to inadequate talent, Araki gathered a group of young actors and pulled the very best from them. Many of these early actors still maintain presence in Araki's prolific flow of films.

As is so often the case with Araki's stories, TOTALLY F***ED UP deals with gay sensibilities in a way that displays the entire spectrum of positive and negative response to his characters. He does not preach: he simply voyeuristically reveals lifestyles as though he were a hidden personage who just happened to fall into private moments and turbulent emotions. In this film Araki divides the examination of six teenage gay kids (four boys and two girls) into 15 dialogues, each representing an aspect of what faces his characters and how they cope with being on the fringe. The 15 episodes are related because the characters remain the same and it is this unique manner of making his story that has continued to be a trait of Araki's later, more linear films.

We meet each of the six characters in an interview situation, with only the minimal amount dialogue conveying the maximum amount of information. The primary character is Andy (a superlative James Duval) whose view of life is bleak to say the least: Andy doesn't believe in love, in commitment, believes he is bisexual even though he has never stepped out of his same-sex playing out, grows to depend on his friends, falls in love with a sweet talking fellow Ian (Alan Boyce) only to discover Ian is not at all monogamous, and finally feels the pain of heartbreak and makes a decision about life that ends the film. The other characters include Michele (Susan Behshid) and Patricia (Jenee Gill) who are lesbian lovers and stable figures for the boys, desiring to have children and a wholesome life without the need for male penetration!; Steven (Gilbert Luna) and Deric (Lance May) who are coupled but come apart when Steven has an affair and Deric is gay-bashed; and Tommy (Roko Belic), the one who falls in love too easily with every one night stand he has.

The episodes deal with the characters' sexual attitudes, AIDS, life on the streets, drugs, parental alienation, loneliness, abuse, suicide, and the desperate need for extended family. With Araki's technique we come to care strongly for each of these disparate kids: by the end of the film they feel like close personal friends of ours.

The filming technique is choppy and slips out of focus and seems to idle like a malfunctioning engine at times, but in Araki's sensitive hands these aspects add to the tension of the story. Clearly Gregg Araki is a gifted artist, and his films subsequent to this successful one serve to prove his growth and increased power of heart to heart communication. Highly recommended. Grady Harp

This is the first film from Gregg Araki, the man who made "Doom Generation" and "Nowhere". Like those films, the theme is the end of the world and features a backdrop of industrial music (Ministry, My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult, 16 Volt, etc.). The only difference is the lack of budget and big name actors (no Rose McGowan or John Ritter). We follow the lives of a group of gay and lesbian teenagers over the course of roughly two weeks. We see their struggles against oppression, their personal lives. An AOL user would summarize this films as "Buttsecks? O RLY? Ya RLY." but that's just ignoring the overall themes to focus on the more distasteful aspects of the film. If you're ans Araki fan or want a new experience, check this film out. It's not nearly as weird as his other films (no aliens or talking decapitated heads), but it will warp your perception of the world. And the end, while very abrupt, leaves something of a lasting effect.

with obvious allusions to vivre sa vie (the film is divided into 14 seemingly randomly segregate segments), gregg araki takes a journey into the lives of a group of gay teens in LA (not ALL gay teens, just a group). Well, maybe journey is the wrong word for it. Those familiar with Araki's other works are aware that they are loud, colorful, bombastic, and over-exentuated. They are also very MOBILE, in that a lot happens in the stories (usually someone gets killed, they run from johnny law, etc.). Totally F**ked up is not a mobile film. It doesn't go anywhere. Araki seems to proscribe in this film to the philosophy ( a Rossellini/ Godard staple) that life is less about actions or even interactions than boredom and other people's stories. James Duval plays a teen who broods in self-antipathy, spouting off despeate (and often pathetic) catch phrases like "life is sh**." or "love does not exist." But the underlying notion is that he really has lost faith and all hope, and as much as it ills him to become a statistic he keeps creeping that way, unable to find an outlet to truly express his real dismays.

Araki's trademark self-coined slang and gother-than-thou art references are still in tact as we view this period of life that is less transitional emotionally than just a shift of behaviors- as we all act like babies. maybe it's just making up excuses - a character being lured into cheating because of a bootleg nine inch nails video- or maybe it's just talking in goofy language and popping pills in abandonned garages to watch each other fall over.

as for the film's "crappy" look, I could either chock it up to lack of funds or intentional grainy filming. After all, every single one of his films are laced with characters using intentionally awful dialogue and intentionally bad acting to disguise its actual intentions. it makes since that he could do this visually too. And with the interspersed interviews with steven's video camera- it could easily be construed as the actual camera eye of the group, a 7th member if you will. either way, it didn't distract me.

People who enjoyed Araki's other films because of the pretty colors and big loud noises need not apply themselves to this film, because it does take patience. but the result is a rewarding experience.

I saw this film in 1995 at the ICA in London, and it blew me away - and it still does today. Mostly because it treates the characters as genuine real PEOPLE,

and without stereotypes. Even in today's age of "will and grace" crap, it still holds up as ten times more genuine.

A lot of people complain that nothing much happens - but that's what these

characters are destined to do- nothing much. They're problem is that they can't find a place to hang out, to fit in, to find others like them. They are nihilistic outcasts, and because they're gay in 1993, they're even more outcast - but

partially by themselves. This film shows this better than any film I've seen since...

-ken