Some movies just make you feel dirty. It usually comes from watching gritty, unpleasant
characters do unappealing things. You
might even feel like you need to take a shower afterwards. Be aware, after watching THE DARK BACKWARD,
there is not enough soap in the world to make you feel clean again. If you can stomach it, there’s actually a
lot of fun to be had.
The Capsule:
Perpetually sweaty sad sack Marty Malt (Judd Nelson) is a
garbage man by day, standup comic by night, and terrible at both. His jokes fail to generate anything but
apathy. He is encouraged to continue by
his best friend and human cockroach, Gus (Bill Paxton). Marty’s depressing life takes an unexpected
turn when he grows a third arm out of his back.
He looses his nightclub standup gig, his horrified girlfriend, Rosarita
(Lara Flynn Boyle) leaves him, and his mother won’t look at him. But Gus and sleazebag agent Jackie Chrome
(Wayne Newton) immediately scheme to exploit Marty’s freakish condition to push
him, and them, into fame and fortune. But
even with three arms, happiness is always just out of Marty’s reach.
To call THE DARK BACKWARD a black comedy is a severe
understatement. It’s more of a grime fairytale. Everything in the film, people included,
seems to be coated in a layer of oily filth.
It almost permeates the screen. Even
the opening credits seem to be written in grease. It’s based in a nameless city during an
undefined time period. Going by the
clothes, it seems to be the 1950’s or early ‘60’s, but it has more of a stagnant,
timeless feel to it. It certainly isn’t
anywhere in reality. The city is dank,
dirty, and covered in trash (the garbage men don’t so much as pick up the trash
as spread it around). There is no
sunshine, no one is happy (except Gus), and there doesn’t seem to be any hope
of it getting better. It’s like the
Anti-Disneyland. If this movie had a
Tinker Bell, she would have syphilis.
The movie has a number of interesting parallels to the
Disney adjacent WALL*E. Both are set in
a world composed of garbage. Both are
worlds people seem to have given up on. The
big difference is that instead of leaving little robots to clean things up, the
departing humans left behind a bunch of losers and creeps to make things worse. And like WALL*E’s Buy N Large, the world of
THE DARK BACKWARD has its own ubiquitous commercial monopoly, Blump’s. It seems to have a hand in everything from
sanitation to musical instruments, but it specializes in food products. Terrifying food products. Billboards advertise Blump’s Squeezable
Bacon, commercials hawk Blump’s Cheddar Scented Cheese, refrigerators are
filled with Blump’s Pork Juice. Blump’s
is the detail that completes the twisted fairytale world, making it feel real
and (thankfully) unreal at the same time.
Of course Blump’s is the corporation that would cater to and rule this
world. Like the Radiation-Free Reindeer
Steaks from HARDWARE, it’s perfect product placement.
The movie doesn’t really have a hero, it has a schlub. Judd Nelson is almost unrecognizable as Marty
Malt. He somehow transformed himself
from the angry tough guy in THE BREAKFAST CLUB to a human version of
Golum. He’s pale and skinny and always
hunched over. The only difference is
Golum told better jokes. He’s so timid,
hiding behind his coke bottle glasses, greasy hair, and oceans of flop sweat, it
seems more like he’s on a firing squad line instead of behind a
microphone. His jokes are so bad that
the depressed patrons of Syd’s Nightclub don’t even bother to heckle him. They just stare blankly, or quietly sob, and
continue to slowly drink themselves to death.
Tough room.
Despite being a schlub, Marty isn’t completely alone. His accordion slinging friend Gus is the best
thing about the movie, and all because of Bill Paxton’s manic performance. The character is possibly the most vile,
disgusting person ever created, but Paxton plays him with such relish he is
almost lovable. Okay, lovable is the wrong term. Horrible fascination is more
accurate. It’s like seeing footage of someone
popping a particularly ripe pimple. You
don’t want to watch, but you can’t turn away.
Gus is the only person who seems to legitimately enjoy living in this
world of filth. He’s a figurative pig in
literal shit. His greatest talent is not
his accordion playing, it’s his ability to eat things that would kill any
normal person. Or animal. He digs into putrid chicken like it was fresh
out of the fryer. He’s actually delighted
to find a half-eaten sandwich discarded in the landfill.
He also has the least erotic sex scene ever committed to
film, and this is after he licks a corpse.
Continuing the Disney analogy, Gus is the Jiminy Cricket to
Marty’s Pinocchio. He relentlessly
encourages Marty in his quest to become a real comic. Most of his encouragement, though, is
blatantly dishonest and self-serving. It
might make Marty momentarily feel better, but it usually just makes things
worse. When Marty sprouts the extra arm,
Gus actively exploits the situation to tag along into the limelight (or at
least that world’s grim, sad version of the limelight). He emotionally bullies Marty into doing
things he doesn’t want to, and guilts him into being grateful. Just when you think he might have the
slightest genuine regard for his friend, Gus (somehow) seduces Marty’s
ex-girlfriend to insure no positive influences can get close to him.
Almost as bad is Wayne Newton’s sleazy agent Jackie Chrome,
who is so insincere he might as well have dollar signs instead of pupils. With his
shiny, colorful suits and drawn-on mustache (sometimes crookedly), he’s actually
the movie’s classiest character. That’s
saying something. What’s great about
Jackie Chrome is that he is only marginally more successful at promoting Marty
than Gus. He changes Marty’s name to
Desi the Three Armed Wonder Comic, gives him a full makeover that doesn’t
change his appearance in any way, and books him on a horrifying kids TV show,
The Twinky Doodle Amateur Showcase.
Marty’s brand new act consists of him doing a slow twirl to show off his
third arm after telling the same terrible jokes.
There is no explanation for why Marty grows a third arm. It starts off as a lump on his back. When he goes to see Dr. Scurvy, played
brilliantly by James Caan, the doctor just berates him and slaps a band-aid on it. He does the same thing when Marty returns
with a baby hand sticking out of his back.
The joke of the movie is that Marty never does anything with the arm. It’s merely a freakish accessory, highlighting
what a weirdo he is. No one can look
further than the obvious gimmick. It’s
sort of implied that Marty doesn’t even have full control of the arm, it seems
to have a mind of its own. It might be
the most sympathetic character in the movie.
When Marty is looking longingly through a window at his ex-girlfriend,
the arm pats him on the shoulder. It provides more comfort than any whole
person in Marty’s life.
[SPOILER for the end]
Keeping with the theme, shit just gets worse for Marty. Just when he finally gets the attention of a
reputable talent scout, Dirk Delta (played by Rob Lowe), and is bound for
Hollywood, his third arm disappears.
Both Gus and Jackie are furious with him, as if he somehow did it on
purpose. Marty convinces Jackie to call
Dirk, be honest, and see what happens.
Jacky nervously spills the beans and waits for the rejection, but his
face lights up at the response. Beaming,
he relays the message to an eager Marty and Gus. “They said…send the accordion player.” Gus and Jackie do not give Marty a second
thought before hopping into a limo and leaving him in the dust. Marty tries to reconnect with Rosarita, but
she’s gone, too. He slinks back to the
only thing he has left, the open mic at Syd’s Nightclub. But in the movie’s singular ray of hope,
Marty finds that as he relates the pain of his last few days, he starts getting
laughs. Creating a routine on the fly,
you can see Marty start to break out of his sad, suffocating shell. He’s finally able to do what he’s always
wanted, to give people a short reprieve from their shity, shity lives.
It’s one of those movies that make me feel a little bad
about finding it so funny. Oddly, it
never feels mean spirited. The misery is
evenly spread around. Even though the undeserving seem to succeed in the end, I doubt they are going to be any
happier than when they started. Their
success is built on a sham of happiness.
Marty is the only person to have achieved something genuine, meager
though it is. That seems to be enough
for him.
Writer/director Adam Rifkin is pitch perfect with the dark,
cynical tone of this movie. His post
BACKWARD work has been all over the place, including a number of family films. The only one I’ve seen is MOUSEHUNT, which I
was pleased to see retained a bit of the Rifkin darkness. No
corpse licking, though. Probably for the best.
C Chaka
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