KABOOM review

Until now, I was a Gregg Araki virgin. That is, in sexual terms (appropriate since those are the terms Araki communicates through in this film), a way of saying I'd never, until this one, seen a film by the edgy gay indie auteur. I remember seeing him featured on the 1995 PBS series "American Cinema" alongside other up-and-comers Quentin Tarantino and Steven Soderbergh. That was before his break-through film (or the closest thing to that for him) "Doom Generation", which a trusted colleague implored me to avoid. I did, and subsequently happened to avoid every other Araki film that followed. It was never a deliberate boycott; it just worked out that way.

Cut to now. Kaboom. No, that's not the sound of my mind blowing up upon finally experiencing the work of Gregg Araki. That's the title of his latest film, a strangely dynamic college odyssey of sexual experimentation, paranormal secret ops, and end-of-the-world paranoia. Tense but funny, direct but askew, "Kaboom" wears its dichotomies as a badge of honor. It's a dread-filled romp through a comic-strip-colored campus while pursued by deranged cultists in animal masks.

Thomas Dekker plays the lead, a gay college guy named Smith who's beginning to question his sexuality. While crushing on Oliver (Brennan Mejia) and sort of lusting after his dimwitted dorm-mate, Thor (Chris Zylka), he ultimately ends up in bed repeatedly with London, a free spirited nymph played by Juno Temple (daughter of filmmaker Julien Temple). All the while, he's haunted by vivid re-occurring dreams involving a red-haired girl in trouble, masked men, and a bright crimson dumpster. His longtime confidant, the chronically un-phased Stella (played with overbearing ice queen detachment by Haley Bennett) rolls with it all, until her own life takes some strange turns as well.

Araki flips decades of Hollywood's oft-depicted one-dimensional stereotypical gay characters by presenting his dyed-in-the-wool heterosexual characters as mono-syllabic Neanderthals while most everyone else enjoys the luxury of being a fully realized human being. But perhaps on the flip side, it is interesting to note that all the frequent nudity in the film is of the female variety (even if the sex itself is not). There is a manic energy surging amid all the carnality, as sex is the be-all, end-all in this world - not unlike real college for many, except in this case, it's actualized through kidnapping, magical powers, and undercover maneuvering.

From a budgetary point of view, it is apparent that Araki does a lot with very little. I'd imagine that this is a skill he's probably spent his career honing, as he does it quite impressively. For this film, he takes his cues from German expressionism and Brian De Palma's work in addition to comic book movies and 1950's Douglas Sirk. The pacing is like a freight train, stopping for nothing, no matter how weird it gets. His use of visual devices such as split screen and cross cutting demonstrate a remarkable grasp of cinematic language. So that's good. It definitely comes in handy amid trying to make sense of his compelling if intentionally oblique plot.

The oddball blend of doomsday anxiety, parental issues and sexual uncertainty is clearly a psychological minefield that I lack both the space and credentials to properly analyze. Whatever the case, it is readily apparent that as a veteran of ten-plus films, Araki knows what he's doing. The 2010 Cannes Film Festival apparently thought so as well, having awarded "Kaboom" the inaugural Queer Palm, for its contribution to lesbian, gay, bisexual, and trans-gender issues. The film is a taut trip, that's for sure, although I think it's safe to say that that's probably the only award it's ever going to win.

So - does all this inspire me to go seek out the entire Gregg Araki back-catalog, and devour it with reckless abandon? No. But "Kaboom" is without question an interesting film, and one with stocked with fearless and raw artistic confidence at its core. For those so inclined to venture into Araki territory, "Kaboom" is a can't-miss cinematic explosion of color and bravado.

- Jim Tudor