Criticism

Jackass the Movie

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Take nine idiots, give them some money, remove their clothes and put them in front of a camera, and you’ll have something pretty close to jackass the movie. Fans of the short-lived but extremely popular MTV series already know what to expect, but for the uninitiated, here’s the lowdown: led by hunkalicious “non-host” Johnny Knoxville, a motley crew of skate punks and amateur daredevils come up with the most shocking, outrageous and, often, dangerous “stunts” they can think of, then perform them on camera, frequently with disastrous results.

Knoxville and company wisely chose not to attempt incorporating a plot into their big screen shenanigans. Instead, the movie follows the same format as the TV show – hysterically funny stunts (with names like The Bungee Wedgie, Butt X-ray and The Muscle Stimulator) interspersed with short clips of the group acting like morons in public. Most of the photos provided in the film’s press kit feature black “censored” bars over performers’ crotches, a clear indication of the primary difference between the television show and the feature. In fact, the only other distinction would be the newfound freedom to curse as much as they wish, which, judging by the steady stream of four letter words, is all the time.

It’s the nudity, and frequent crotch and ass grabbing, that have made jackass irresistible to gay audiences. Despite the frat-boy mentality (or maybe because of it), there’s a very homoerotic vibe emanating from the jackass gang, who have strong fascination with fireworks, body fluids, and, most of all, each other’s genitals. This is especially true of group member Steve-O, whose past stunts include turning himself into a walking urinal and allowing men to relieve themselves on him and also licking the armpits of guys he meets in bars. The garment of choice for Steve-O, along with Chris “Party Boy” Pontius, is a g-string (barely beating their second fave, a jockstrap); consequently, most of their stunts feature plenty of gratuitous shots of their nether regions.

It’s too bad Knoxville’s on the Hollywood track now, because it would be nice to get a glimpse of more than just his (marvelously bountiful) bush. But even minus that admittedly desirable thrill, there are plenty of butts, balls and dicks to arouse the, um, curiosity of any card-carrying queen. If it were any closer to gay porn, it would… well, on second thought, it couldn’t be any closer than it already is.

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