Tagline: Invite a few friends over to watch the end of the world!
Curiosity: It sounded like cheesy sci-fi movie. Turns out it was a satire helmed by schlockmeister Roger Corman.
Plot: Totally square adults in
Thoughts: I’ve been bamboozled! Hoodwinked! Preharps even ever so slightly cuckolded? Little did I know that I was delving into the world of Roger Corman and *gulp* flower power. Gas-s-s-s takes broad strokes in explaining young people – all football players become rapists in the post-apocalypse, for example. Absurdist humor accompanies this. Gun fights are settled by naming actors instead of using bullets – Coel delivers a killing stroke by shouting “John Wayne!” Coel and Cilla engage in sex by naming big words, then climax by singing the word “orgasm.” Also available: stupid hippie peace platitudes, awkward attempts at being down with minorities, even more awkward rape humor, and the occasional free love segment.
The majority of the film, though, is dedicated to driving montages. Sometimes there’s a chase scene. Sometimes it’s folks going from one faux-surrealistic locale to another. But it’s always scored by Country Joe and The Fish. Every once in a while, the absurdist humor pays off – a pregnant character goes into labor, decides that a post-apocalypse is no place to raise a child, and cancels her delivery on the spot.
The rest of Gas-s-s-s doesn’t really pay off, though. The cast seems awfully smug in their free love bullshit, even though the film kind of tries to parody interracial relationships, which I did not realize needed parodying. In fact, the movie comes off a tad conservative in spots – rock ‘n’ roll and Native Americans are lampooned, while vegetarianism never comes up. Apparently, all you need for an alternative lifestyle is a ton of weed.
Reflection: As Gas-s-s-s, Erik the Viking, and Breeders taught me this week, rape just doesn’t lend itself to comedy.
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