Viking Night: Idiocracy
By Bruce Hall
November 15, 2016
BoxOfficeProphets.com
Here’s what you need to know about Idiocracy.
Mike Judge (Office Space, King of the Hill) wrote, directed, and produced this weirdly amusing little gem back in 2006. In it, obviously, society is gradually taken over by idiots. We know this because as we all learned in eighth grade Civics, that’s what you call an Idiocracy. Well, this Idiocracy was in limited release for approximately the length of time it takes to burn a couple of Hot Pockets. As a result, it was not what you’d call a “financial success.” Later, thanks to its subject matter, the film would find new life as both a cult favorite and a sort of election year douche-barometer.
Hipsters, raise your hands if you’ve ever cradled your decaf soy latte while snidely comparing modern society with those dummies from Idiocracy? And then, when nobody had any idea what you were talking about, scoffed and changed the subject to how you’ve recently become gluten free? You clearly didn’t read carefully, because I’m sure I alluded both to the film’s low box office, and to a revolutionary new weather device of my own invention.
Still, though, the general tone of Idiocracy is in keeping with what you’d expect from Mike Judge, which is to say “unsubtle.” The setup, such as it is, involves a reluctant Army librarian named Joe Bauers (Luke Wilson) being recruited for a very special mission. The powers that be are field testing a device meant to freeze important figures for later revival, in case of war. Not willing to risk using an animal, the Army chooses the most average and unremarkable man in its ranks - Corporal “Average” Joe Bauers.
It’s weird not to have at least one female in the cast, so the Army sends a wisecracking prostitute named Rita (Maya Rudolph) to accompany Joe. They’re meant to remain frozen for one year, but a hilarious mistake means that not unlike galactic space hero Buck Rogers, the pair are frozen for over 500 years. Sadly, very MUCH unlike Buck Rogers, they do not wake up in a rope-light bedazzled Utopia where they get to fly space fighters and trade sexually neutral banter with a spandex clad Erin Gray.
Instead, they wake up on separate ends of the largest landfill on earth, in what was once Washington, D.C. The world has evolved into a grimy corporate dystopia. Every square inch of it is covered with advertisements for junk food, energy drinks. The most popular TV show is called “Ow! My Balls,” and it’s about exactly what you think it’s about. The citizens speak a form of English that sounds like a cross between Hillbilly and Ebonics. The President of the United States is a former professional wrestler named Dwayne Elizondo Mountain Dew Herbert Camacho (Terry Crews). This is funny, because elevating a reality TV star to the Presidency is so laughably improbable.
The joke behind how the world got this way is that the best and brightest among us reproduce at a slower rate than the less intellectually gifted, for a variety of hilarious reasons. Simply put, “idiots can’t stop fucking.” It’s funny until you break it down. Delicately put, the cultural and stylistic tone of Idiocracy can largely be found between the “Redneck” and “Cholo” sections of Bed, Bath and Beyond. Now, I am sophisticated enough to know that there’s truth in stereotypes, and that you have to establish a reference point of SOME kind for the audience. It’s not THAT big of a deal.
But like President Camacho’s hair, or a pair of badly scorched Hot Pockets, once seen it cannot be unseen. So yes, some of the humor in Idiocracy is mean-spirited to a fairly specific degree. If you enjoy things like NASCAR, Fox News, wanton testicular trauma or eating liquefied processed cheese-food out of a bucket, you may not be entirely pleased. However, if you’re able to think a bit more broadly, there’s enough here to hang at least a pair of socks on, if not an actual hat.
A society based entirely on the Three E’s - Eating, Entertainment and Evacuation - does have its benefits. President Camacho’s State of the Union address includes a guitar solo. There’s always a Carl’s Jr. around when you need one. And did I mention the buckets of cheese? If that’s not enough, consider that all public executions are Monster Truck based, and the head Trucker is named Beef Supreme? But perhaps the best source of humor Idiocracy can offer is Luke Wilson’s bemused smirk and crinkly forehead. If less is more, this is almost an award worthy performance.
His relative eloquence with English, along with his Cub Scout level problem solving skills, literally make Joe the smartest man on earth, and President Camacho’s new best friend. All Wilson has to do is walk around and look bewildered for the first half of the film, and he is the Al Pacino of walking around looking bewildered. But later on, when Joe holds his own lifelong lack of ambition up against the backdrop of Idiocracy, the verdict is damning. Of course, Joe always had something to contribute to society. He just never tried because he was afraid to fail. And like your dad always said, spending all your free time doing nothing guarantees that you'll amount to nothing.
Joe’s gradual awareness of this actually provides the film with enough heart to offset its craven sense of humor. And I have to admit, the guy IS called Beef Supreme for a reason. Basically, this film has a rather binary message - you’re either the kind of person who seeks to improve yourself, or you’re not. And if you’re not, you suck and will probably be responsible for the destruction of humanity. That’s kind of a narrow focus. When you add Luke Wilson’s C-list appeal, the fact that Maya Rudolph has zero screen presence and the somewhat rough visual effects, it’s easy to see why this wasn’t a hit.
However, Idiocracy does make a salient point about the close relationship between inactivity and death. It does have a wickedly clever sense of humor, but the tone is often that of an adult picking on a disabled child. And while the special effects are a little dodgy, I’d say it was more due to budget than a misapplication of resources. You can still accomplish a lot with a good matte painting, creative lighting and bargain basement CG. Unless you’re under the impression the dinosaurs in Jurassic World are real (I’m looking at you, President Camacho), you’ll agree that some of the effectiveness of visual effects depends on the viewer’s willingness to suspend disbelief.
Just like Beavis and Butthead do America, just like Office Space, and just like most of Mike Judge’s work, Idiocracy is a simple film that succeeds by virtue of not letting its reach exceed its grasp. With different stars and a bigger budget, all of these would have been very different films, and the focus of the story might have shifted. As it is, sometimes a minimalist touch provides clarity for both the artist and the patron. Or, as the immortal Beef Supreme might say, sometimes a bucket of liquefied processed cheese-food is just a bucket of liquefied processed cheese-food.