Seedy Pop Pastiche

Whether or not you recognize the name Kenneth Anger, his legacy as one of the most important underground American filmmakers is certainly familiar. Anger's experimental films from the sixties and seventies, with their juxtaposition of the sacred, profane, and weird, influence contemporary visual culture across the board: from music videos to the work of directors like Tarantino and Lynch. In an interview with Richard Henderson for Wire magazine, Anger himself claims,

"In the early days of the [MTV] network, I saw compositions taken directly from my 1964 film Scorpio Rising again and again. You can't even call it a homage, it's just plagiarism."

Scorpio Rising, part of the American Moving Images exhibition at the Plains Art Museum in Fargo which runs through April 10th, portrays the seedy underbelly of this country's James Dean complex. The film subverts (among other things) the macho image of the rebel while backed by a non-stop soundtrack of pop radio hits like "Wipeout", "Hit the Road Jack", and "My Boyfriend's Back" whose lyrics ironically comment on the sometimes disturbing images we see on screen. As I sat on my folding chair, watching the small screen and trying to adjust my cheap headphones, it was easy to pretend that I had discovered some tape of underground gold in my cool uncle’s basement. Curiously, the video monitor was not labeled, as if the museum staff did not want to take responsibility for knowing what the film was. Perhaps a cover against local right-wing agitators?

Often called the first postmodern film, this dense work is purposefully vague. The 30 minutes of footage are packed with metaphor and magick. Although it's not necessary to do a little background reading on Anger before you watch Scorpio, it certainly wouldn't hurt. There is no conventional plot. A man polishes his motorcycle with stoic determination, recalling Ed Ruscha's short film Miracle, while a hooded skull looms in the corner of the garage. Bikers fastidiously dress in leather as Bobby Vinton's "Blue Velvet" plays. Nazi iconography fades into black and white film clips of the life of Jesus, who heals a blind man to the tune of "He's A Rebel". The music helps to detach the images onscreen from a sense of narrative. By distancing us, the film forces us to consider how, not just what, we see. It’s the medium, not the message, Marshall McLuhan said. Keep that in mind when you watch Scorpio Rising.