Shut Up Little Man! An Audio Misadventure

From director Mathew Bate comes the stunningly well put-together documentary "Shut up, Little Man: An Audio Misadventure." It tells the complete story behind the infamous audio tapes that have been circulating around the globe for around 20 years. For those unfamiliar, the tapes are real-life recordings done by two college graduates of their drunken, next-door neighbor's violent, profane and often hilarious verbal (and occasionally physical, as is implied) brawls. They were essentially a viral sensation long before the age of the internet took over, and circulated throughout the US. (and eventually the globe)

This documentary, as mentioned in the subject line, feels like two different documentaries on a common subject, "smooshed" together. The first half of the film follows the two guys, who in the late 80's made the initial recordings and helped facilitate their distribution. It follows their stories, and how the audio grew beyond expectations, spawning everything from comics, to small plays and even eventually a film.

The second half of the film is a more comprehensive look at the two main subjects of the audio- Ray and Eddie, a homophobic violent drunk, and his gay and equally as drunk roommate. It pieces together their story and we are eventually able to learn more and more about them, and their relationship as friends/roommates/enemies.

The film is presented in a very interesting way, and the method by which the production team chooses to develop the subjects is fascinating and very cool. Lots of cool visuals, stock footage set to the audio, and other visual tricks give the documentary a level of eye-candy, and there is rampant humor throughout. If you've seen the fabulous documentary "Winnebago Man", you will know the sort of thing to expect, because the latter half of the film is in much the same vein.

It's also interesting seeing "Eddie Lee Sausage" and "Mitchell D", the two men who made the recordings, and how their lives have been affected by it, both for the better and for the worse. Some scenes focusing on the morality and exploitive nature of the audio and the "art" it inspired are exceedingly though-provoking.

That being said, the film does get a little lost at times. Some scenes focusing on "fans" of the audio feel out of place and don't add much to the story, there is some redundancy in how the film keeps coming back to the same themes over and over again (but not in a clean, poetic way, but in a forced, contrived way), and it does drag at times.

However, that being said, it's still a fundamentally solid and extremely fun documentary, and I'd highly recommend it. I give it an 8 out of 10.

I tried as hard as I could not to laugh at the recordings of two drunks hurling abuse at each other. It was impossible, my moral code failed beneath the sheer brilliant beauty of the dialogue that takes place. Some of the lines from Peter and Ray are pure comedy gold, I wish I could remember as many of them as possible.

The film itself is very well made, weaving together exciting visual eleemnts to accompany the auditory subject matter. There is a distinct nod to Erroll Morris in the Interrotron, to-camera style of interviews as well as the re-ennactment of the scenes taking place inside the Pepto-Bismol Palace.

This film is a riot, great for fans of the tapes and those who know nothing. Highly recommend.

It's difficult to believe that simple recordings of unorthodox arguments had the ability to go viral in the 1980's. It may seem unfathomable, but Tribeca's new documentary Shut Up Little Man! An Audio Misadventure assures us that it happened. In 1987, two young punks named Eddie Lee Sausage and Mitchell "Mitchell D" Deprey moved into a bright pink, low rent apartment (eventually coined the "Pepto Bismol Palace") and were consistently bothered by their next door neighbors loud, inane arguments that would happen throughout hours of the night.

The neighbors were apparently on a life long welfare and alcohol binge. They were bigoted and homophobic Raymond Huffman and openly homosexual Peter Haskett. Though it appears them living together was a contradiction in itself, sources claim that the two were close friends when sober. Which, as we can assume from watching the film, wasn't too often.

Peter and Raymond would argue like a married couple, using profanity so explicit it may be questioned why they weren't thrown out. They would exchange insults back in forth with Peter usually yelling "shut up, little man!" at Raymond. After growing weary of the yelling, and after an attempt to stop them did not work, Eddie and Mitchell decided to tie a microphone to a ski pole and raise it out the window so they could record their neighbors' mindless rants for their personal record. They recorded them to a cassette tape, and the newly discovered mechanism of evidence and defense eventually became used for enjoyment and curiosity. They continued doing it for the logical reason of human nature; to see how far they would go next time. The result makes for a surprisingly entertaining documentary. Just like the documentaries F**k and Winnebago Man, it proves that the topic of swearing, if taken seriously and effectively, will produce a very interesting breed of films.

What makes this documentary so interesting was it shows how things went viral before computers. What if the "Shut Up Little Man" recordings had Youtube under their belt? They would've spread uncontrollably, but due to the primitive technology, it took longer for them to be heard.

The film was made for two major reasons; the first being because, at one time, three separate films from three separate groups were trying to make a film on this subject, including Eddie and Mitchell, and all were rejected or stuck in development hell. And the second reason because one big question lingers over Eddie and Mitchell's heads "do they owe Peter and Raymond anything?" Both men died in the nineties, but is it fair to market their recordings for a profit without giving them something in return? It's a little late, but the duo do the best they can to try and make amends. This involves tracking down a third member of some of the infamous recordings. To say what happens when they meet him would be criminal. Shut Up Little Man! An Audio Misadventure is funny, engaging, and genial. There's nothing to really be biased about, which is why I believe the documentary didn't feel like a burden at all. Just like with Winnebago Man, things could've quickly spiraled into a whirlpool of mindless swearing and inconsistencies. Luckily enough, the film doesn't get preoccupied with ridiculous, directionless comments which is a lot more than can be said about some of the actual recordings.

Starring: Eddie Lee Sausage and Mitchell Deprey. Directed by: Matthew Bate.

Imagine, if you will, a couple of cartoonist Harvey Pikars living in the next apartment in 1987 San Fran; only these two aren't savage cartoonists and don't have Harvey's wit or wide-ranging interest in humanity. They're just a couple of aging men, roommates, one gay one straight.

Shut Up Little Man! An Audio Misadventure is the strangest documentary you'll see this year or almost any because nothing really happens except that filmmakers Mitchell D and Eddie Lee Sausage tape their two old neighbors, who, when drunk, verbally abuse each with the same repetitive expletives, the most memorable being Ray's, which is the first part of the film's title.

Two elements of the experience are worth noting: a viral fame came by way of a world-wide network of lending tape organizations (remember, no You-Tube or Internet), and talk of litigation about privacy rights appears and then vanishes.

These two topics could have been the heft needed to counterbalance the repetition of Ray and Pete's rants, which are strangely uninteresting except for our voyeuristic interest in loser humanity and the sheer banality of their lives, perhaps reminding viewers of their basest moments of stupidity and anger against a loved-one.

The doc is peopled by geeks who spend a large part of their lives pursuing these tapes as if they were the private conversations of Charlie Sheen. Wait! That's the answer: We love the salacious, degraded moments of someone else's life because we feel superior or we need to know that others have the same weird moments we do. I must admit to a fascination with the rhythmic patterns of their language, poetry from the tenement but not T.S. Eliot.

Its lowness mystifies me, an art house fan, and yet attracts me, as a winsome prostitute might. I know she's not part of my life, but for some reason I'm compelled to invite her in.

It's grumpy old men for a new generation. They were hilarious, fascinating, and I wish more of their backstory was known. If your dad can curse a blue streak, this will make you laugh!