Shirkers

2018 documentary about a lost movie from 1992

Rating: 15/20

Plot: Back in 1992, a youngster from Singapore and some friends make themselves a little avant-garde road movie called Shirkers, and now in 2018, a documentary called Shirkers about the making and subsequent losing of Shirkers has come out. Shirkers.

I've been critical of Netflix's movie releases for some time, but this past month, I've really been thankful to have that streaming service. I mean, I always have been because how would I get to see the same episodes of It's Jessie! or whatever that show is over and over again without Netflix?

Note: Apparently, that show is just called Jessie. I apologize to any fans of the show who stumble upon this.

Metronome alert! The film-within-the-documentary, which shares the documentary's title, includes a cool use of a metronome.

I think it might be nearly impossible to make a documentary about yourself and friends, include your own narration, and not seem self-indulgent. I really wanted to like Sandi Tan--the screenwriter for the 1992 Shirkers and the director of this documentary--a lot more than I did, but when you're making a first-person documentary like this, you've got some obstacles to overcome in any quest for likability. The movie also has excessive music that started to get on my nerves.

But the story itself is engrossing, and the images from 1992 are really cool. I really enjoyed seeing these snapshots from Singapore, the biggest dog in that island nation, and that metronome. Tan wears her influences on her sleeve perhaps, but it's interesting to think about how she could have grown as a filmmaker and developed what likely would have been an original filmmaking voice if she had been able to stick with it.

Of course, the visuals--and that's really all we get here since the narrative for the original Shirkers is never very clear and there's no sound--were really courtesy of the film's director (or co-director?), a Georges Cardona who operates as the mysterious villain for the documentary's narrative. Cardona's a fascinating creep, and I don't think that's a spoiler since he gives off a creepy vibe from the first time we meet him. I mean, anybody claiming to be the inspiration for Spader's character in Sex, Lies, and Videotape is likely not to be trusted, right?

With a lot of twists and turns in this, it's probably best that I just recommend it without saying anything else. I watched this because it was paired with the new Orson Welles movie on The Next Picture Show podcast, so I have them to thank for putting it on my radar. They're likely doing better things with their time than reading this though.