Trash Humpers

Here's a film where a bunch of old people literally hump trash and lampposts, masturbate plants, throw firecrackers as they recite verse, tapdance in a parking lot and smash TVs. There is no story. There is no cinematic beauty to speak of, it's shot on ugly VHS and the artifact shows. It is, at first and possibly second and third glance, a pointless film designed to grate.

But what do we learn about ourselves if we shy away from the confrontation? Watching this, a self that criticizes comes to the fore for whom all of this has no point, he might not be altogether wrong, but let's surprise ourselves, pipe that self down and, not giving him final say in our view, see what else may pop up. Let's engage our own limits of sense.

What grates here seems to be this: old people do unnatural things, babies are dragged behind bicycles, elsewhere a kid hammers a baby's head or a man dressed as a french maid lies murdered in a pool of blood in a kitchen floor with a hammer next to him. Korine himself partly labors under the concept of a media satire, giving us bare sketches without the framework of story or visually dressed of the same violent inanity we consume elsewhere, not much interesting in itself.

The beauty comes once you start to see through that uptight self that can only settle for these things as part of a story. The men only wear masks of old people, the baby is a doll, we plainly know that the man in the french maid costume is playing dead and that is maple syrup on the floor. Unlike other films where the illusion sweeps us into belief, here we know it is all make believe, know this as we watch.

So why be struck by a sense of desolation?

It seems only because we are anxiously prepared to engage a world where the objects (a man lying murdered) are enlivened by their significance, supplying that horizon is what we're made to do. But here plainly they don't, there is no murder, no baby being savaged and only the form, the context of their significance. A man lies naked in the mud, the image carries a sense of something wrong. The assumption is why would he do that if something wasn't wrong? But how uptight is that? He's just a dude told to lie there.

Having peeled through this, what's left?

'Make it, don't fake it'. A dude lying there, faking it and yet not. The vivid reality of this being a play. The playing itself. Not just an ode to destruction, there's no value to that, but the joy of tapdancing in a parking lot. No mistake, it's one of the great films on the illusion of story and the real life beyond that, but you'll have to be still until that nagging old self exhausts his critique and you become the wandering eye finding unexpected happenings among unremarkable America.

It pays off with more evident value in Spring Breakers. There the partying figures pushing against the limits of sense become desirable young girls, the landscape is similarly inversed from drab middle America to alluring Florida, the humping becomes twerking, but the journey is the same marvelous one: finding in the standard perception of something being empty of value, a deeper one which is the capacity for immersion.

There are plenty of films about a staid beauty, like Baraka. This is for those who want to get dirty living it through.

If I was still 15 years old I would probably have thought of it as daring and provocative and enjoyed it for the very same reason. But since I'm not fifteen anymore thats not good enough.

The first 30 minutes of the film I kind of enjoyed. Weird people doing weird things, well I can go for that, but the movie should have ended after about 30 minutes. There is no plot at all and you don't get to know any of the characters so there is simply nothing to be curious about in the movie. You don't give a s**t about what happens to any of the characters or how the movie will end.

The only thing that left me after having seen the move was a bade taste in my mouth and I couldn't say anything about it besides that the song/saying "Make it make it, make it, don't fake it, make it, make it..." was quite funny.

Personally I think highly of Harmony Korines earlier work and I guess he is just taking the p**s with this movie. If it will be well written of and seen as a work of a genius, I think he will be as surprised as I will be. But if he decides to cut it down to a short movie, than I say go for it.

Old people or homeless or psychotic people doing weird crap is funny, and Korrine is one of the only people that can get away with the "no plot/day in the life" kind of movie. But I kept wondering if using actual old people would've made it better or worse.

It's worth watching if you like Harmony Korrine or unsettling people just running around for 90 minutes. People looking for symbolism or depth in this movie are ridiculous.

Harmony Korine's Trash Humpers is an ode to cinematic lawlessness and unadulterated mischief. This is the strangest film Korine has ever made, which says a lot seeing as he was the driving force behind Gummo and Julien Donkey-Boy, two of the most unique films of the nineties decade. What makes it so significant in its perplexing obscurity is that it seems to be devoid of any meaning, where with Korine's two previous films you could totally sense there was something there - regardless of how it was presented or how subtle it appeared to be. Trash Humpers seems to have no meaning at all, and feels like Korine's handwritten insult to the unwritten laws of cinema that have threaded the cloth of conventionality.

The film is shot on a low-quality VHS camera and follows three grotesque subhumans around town, who commit several unthinkable atrocities such as vandalism and public indecency, almost obtaining a strange form of pleasure from it. The three characters also wear petrified masks, resembling elderly people, to hide their identity and further make themselves irredeemably ugly. That's what this picture is in a nutshell - "irredeemably ugly" - as well as repulsive, unappealing, beyond offbeat, and a tough sit, even for its seventy-eight minute runtime.

Korine's goal, if he even has any here, seems to be incorporating so much senseless imagery, unique style, lewd acts, shameless and ugly characters, and no cohesion in an attempt to make the most unwatchable film. And don't forget the touch of old school film editing and taping, which we'll get in to. It's one of the first times I'll call a film "unwatchable" not because of poor content but downright bad content committed by the film's characters. The stuff they are doing, humping mailboxes, running aimlessly screaming, breaking public property, and engaging in murder is unwatchable; the film itself is a mildly-amusing, but trivial novelty.

However, I especially enjoyed the film's shot-on-VHS style, making strong note of the choppiness, the messiness, and the long-forgotten imperfections of VHS-quality tapes in a flawless, digitally-driven world. This gives the film a very lowly look to it, almost appearing like a sick home movie that was released to the public due to a criminal mistake. Some have compared it to Jackass, due to the excessive amount of silliness and pride the characters take in reeking havoc. I simply can't, because Jackass made me smile and laugh, while viewing Trash Humpers left me deeply disturbed and somewhat scarred.

And yet, I emerge more positive than I thought I'd e. The tone of the picture is so eerie and unpleasant, and the effect it has on a viewer is somewhat lasting. I can't give it a completely positive review, for the film doesn't feature many attractive qualities other than its cinematography and is burdened by a longer-than-necessary length (forty-five minutes would've been more ideal). However, it earns a recommendation to the most adventurous and curious cinephiles - a group that might still emerge disgusted and somewhat horrified. It's a hard film to watch, and even harder to like, yet that could be Korine's ultimate goal overall.

Directed by: Harmony Korine.

Young provocateur filmmaker Harmony Korine, who lives in and grew up in Nashville, has made a film in trashy cheap VHS that evokes the nightmare world of degenerate southern redneck swine.

He doesn't exactly say that. He explains when talking of the film that growing up, there were some scary old people who used to peek in windows at night, particularly next door where there was a young girl. Now the underpasses and open lots that he roamed as a youth are full of trash, and looking at trash receptacles one day the idea came to him of people humping them. He couldn't get real old people to play his roles so he gathered together a group of friends earlier this year who wear old person masks in the film. A couple of weeks of warming up and a couple of weeks of wandering around and shooting as the cast improvised and the film, like a sketch made on a whim, was done. It's perhaps an antidote to the more elaborate process involved in Korine's last film, 'Mr. Lonely,' a more straightforward film starring Diego Luna, Samantha Morton, and others.

There is no plot, just a series of random scenes. A boy tries and fails to sink a basketball in a hoop. The garbage cans get humped. A screeching old lady rides a small dirt bike around with a baby doll tied dragging behind. The boy takes a hatchet to a doll in a parking lot and tries to chop up its head. A man recites an improvised poem about a nation of trash while one of the masked oldsters sits in a wheelchair and throws out firecrackers at a bunch of balloons. There is some nakedness. There is some nasty talk. There is almost the fear Korine said his wife felt when he played a VHS tape somebody'd given him, that it was going to turn into a snuff film. Korine wanted this to look and feel like found footage, like stuff on a strange videotape found in the trash somewhere. Made by old and demented perverts living a free and aimless life.

Some of the images may evoke various sources such as Diane Arbus or Ralph Eugene Meatyard's still photos (strangeness, retardation, aimlessness, Gothic vacuity), but he denies any such connections. Somebody has suggested Korine is treading on the ground of early John Waters. But Waters has a knack for plot; even Korine's structured 'Kids' scenario rambles. And Waters has a great sense of humor. 'Trash Humpers' is ridiculous -- it's a horror movie that's also a comedy -- but there is no wit in it. It's a kind of improvised voyeurism. It does succeed in wandering well outside the mainstream. Its use of a very primitive kind of VHS reminds us as in a far more complex way did David Lynch's beautiful 'Inland Empire' that seeming "found" footage can be deeply evocative and scary. Even 'Blair Witch Project' comes to mind. Not many filmmakers would have staged a series of casually revolting stunts like those encapsulated randomly and (he says) in order of staging that Korine dumps on us here. It's a statement about limits and about freedom. And it's been acknowledged as valid. Even 'Variety' concludes its review of the film with the line: "Across the board, tech credits are appalling -- in a good way." Korine is an odd one (and an articulate interviewee in the NYFF press Q&A) and for festival and film buff audiences he is a force to reckon with. The question is, what's next? Will he go backwards or forwards?

Dennis Lim has written an appreciative piece on the film for Cinema Scope. "Can the most regressive work yet by an artist known for arrested development also be a sign of his newfound maturity?" Now there's a bit of interpretive convolution for you. And the statement implied by the question may be true. But still the remaining question is, what's next?

Shown as part of the main slate of the New York Film Festival at Lincoln Center 2009. Premiered at Toronto.