3

A pointless, tasteless and one-sided documentary

Unfortunately this has nothing to do with Led Zep, but is instead a documentary on the disillusionment in America's suburban youth, and their subsequent affinity towards extreme sports and body 'modification'. Coming from the richest country in the world, this premise smacks a little bit of 'how can I feel pain when you're being so supportive' (with thanks to Bill Bailey) preening faux-angst. After all, considering how rough a deal some of the kids in less economically developed countries get, it's a little hard to feel sorry for a guy who spends his days surfing in California – we should all be so lucky...

The film is split into four segments: 'ink', 'needle', 'modification' and the rather ominous 'suspension', dealing in turn with progressively extreme forms of 'individualism', all inter-cut with grainy, sun-scorched footage of various extreme sports (complete with one of those cringe-inducing wipe-out reels - ouch), set against a backdrop of chilled beats – ironically stereotypical considering the films subject matter. These brief interludes are presumably designed to allow the viewers to catch breath and make the whole thing more palatable, but what is intended to be a diversion actually proves to be more interesting than the documentary itself, with some truly spectacular tricks and stunts from some of the worlds best skaters, surfers and boarders.
The documentary marches under the banner of a quote by English author and philosopher Bertrand Russell; 'Orthodoxy is the death of intelligence'. It sounds suitably impressive, and there may even be an element of truth in it, but their argument is not helped by the overwhelming succession of stupidity showcased on this DVD.

One of my particular favourite moments is when, in an attempt to be 'like James Bond – double oh', a guy does a back flip off a first story balcony. Onto concrete. He lands it perfectly, but for all of his obvious gymnastic prowess, ends up in a wheelchair. I'll let you decide if he's a 'winner' or not. And whilst you might reasonably imagine this to be an attention-seeking stunt of a deranged individual, it is far from an isolated incident. There is also a 'cosmic convergence' of sick – where a group of guys are calmly throwing up Exorcist style onto their kitchen floor, 'home surgery' – where a guy who's had a wine glass smashed into his face during an argument with his seemingly unconcerned girlfriend ('look what I just pulled off his face' she proudly proclaims, a piece of sinuous flesh dangling from her fingers) is patched up using dental floss and Jagermeister, and a scene where people are smashing bottles over their own heads. Now I'm not sure what passes for entertainment in America these days, but it's certainly a little different from what I like to do on my nights off. I'm sure the creators of this DVD would immediately level accusations at me of being boring and unoriginal, but if self-mutilation is a sign of being individual then you can keep your precious title you weirdos.

Whilst they may pretend to have some lofty purpose of educating us 'normal' people as to the errors of our ways, and opening our eyes to the 'real world' where pain is merely 'an intense sensation' – the main aim of this DVD seems to be slightly less meritorious: to shock and disgust. On this front the film is a resounding success, because if projectile vomiting isn't enough to unsettle your stomach, the graphic scenes of piercing and extreme-sport-induced injuries are sure to do the trick. There is a veritable plethora of bodily sections having sharp pieces of steel pushed through them – yes, including that guys, as well as 'skin implant'; where ball-bearing like objects are inserted subcutaneously to form a kind of 3-D body sculpture.
One of the few truly interesting subjects that the film encroaches upon is the somewhat surprising discrimination present between these supposedly open-minded individuals, and the distinct sub-groups that are apparent in the worlds of both extreme sports and body modification. Surfer Christian Fletcher describes his shunning by the sport due to his 'long hair' and 'anti-social attitude', a combination that didn't fit neatly into the more 'whitebread' outlook of the surfing community. He then shows himself to be gracious in defeat by proclaiming himself a better surfer than hero-of-the-waves Kelly Slater, saying that 'I was doing manoeuvres they couldn't even name, I was on a complete different level from all of them'. Toys out of the pram anyone?

Possibly the best thing about 'Physical Graffiti' is the way that it repeatedly and satisfyingly shoots itself in the foot. A lot of the interviews actually have the opposite-to-desired effect of showing the negative aspects of getting yourself modified. One heavily tattooed Latino points to a large portrait fixedly smiling from his upper arm 'got one of my Dad, but I don't like him anymore, so cross that out', before running over the offending area with a black marker. I'm not sure if anybody told him this, but marker pen doesn't actually remove tattoos – they're kind of permanent. One guy even tries to make an economic argument for having tattoos, claiming that they are in fact sensible because 'it’s an art that you can keep your whole life – it wont fall off the wall, it wont break, you wont lose it, you pay for it and it's good for ever'. It would be very easy to turn the tables by stating that you can't hang a tattoo above the fireplace, although this is only partially true, as demonstrated by the horrifying 'human on a meat-hook' suspension section. Another young skater displays similar regret, as his love for his skin art lowered somewhat when his mother decided to follow his lead and get 'inked'. 'The reason why I got them is they were anti-social... but my Mum was getting them – it’s over... I wish I could get them removed'

This highlights perhaps the most major flaw in their argument, because despite all the noble sentiments about individuality, freedom of expression and the perils of social conformity, the movement's emphasis is so clearly founded in image, and is therefore exposed as being shallow and literally skin-deep. It just seems that the participants are unaware that they are conforming to an equally restrictive and image-conscious guidebook as the rest of us.

Despite all of these shortcomings, by far the worst thing about 'Physical Graffiti' is narrator Jim Rose. He spends the entire 42 minutes cheesily spouting 2-bit philosophy with such overblown conviction, that it's as if he's making a presidential speech rather than saying ridiculous things such as 'what use is all this knowledge, this life-long quest? What distinguishes an anti-hero from a SHEEP (said with real venom and contempt) on the day of judgement apart from ink on the skin, steel in the flesh and experience in the mind'. He even quotes Nichii – talk about ideas above your station.
I honestly don't know what kind of person would actually want to buy this (the kind of person who'd pierce a bit of metal into their soft spot probably), as it fails to operate as a balanced and intelligent documentary on almost every level. It's too explicit and disgusting to be entertaining in the same way that Jackass was, and the arguments are too biased and conceited to be educational or informative. With music from Tricky, Massive Attack and Alex Reece amongst others, the soundtrack kicks arse, but that really is all that can be said about it.

I think the pointlessness of this project is neatly summed up by the narrator and wannabe hero of social reform Jim Rose, who, during one of his crappy speeches, accidentally hits the nail on the head. 'All it is, is a drawing on you'. Get over it then.