A workmate gave me a copy of Repo Man. She knew that I’d been wanting to see it for some time and had never been able to find a copy. So she picked one up from Amoeba and just fucking gave it to me. Very nice. Between that and the all the DEVO shit a customer has given me, I feel pretty good. Mutants help mutants. It’s in the code.
I watched it the other night. And boy – I miss punk rock. Not the fucking watered down mess it all became, with everyone with a Clash mp3 thinking that made them a punk, but the whole stupid other thing. The getting kicked in the head thing. The danger thing. The simple idea that punks do punk things and most of those things are really fucking stupid but there you have it – it is what it is. The sort of criminal, no life by proxy type shit. I don’t know where that all went. I mean, I don’t want to be a cop about it, but it’s like you wake up one day and then some twenty year old, upstanding-citizen-libertarian is telling you that they hate people on welfare because, well, they’re a bit of a punk. And you just want to shake the kid and be like – you love the rich and you hate welfare, that’s not punk, dummy. Collect welfare. Spit on the rich. Like, you’re fucking twenty. Get your fucking head out of the boss’s ass, screw it on straight and go fucking live or something.
But anyway . . . Repo Man.
I really miss this part of it too. These sorts of movies and books. That weird intersection between punk and science fiction. And, no, I’m not talking about cyber, steam or whatever punk. That shit can be as bad as that kid. I mean more like the stuff where punk found some sort of fertile ground in sci-fi. B-Movie productions marry nicely with fuck-it-all nihilism. Maybe it started with The Blob. But you know the shit I mean. The speed, beer and an alien costume before noon shit. The teenage car crash shit.
Repo Man is that sort of shit.
The good shit.
Basically, the story is some young punk quits his job at the grocery store. He falls into being a repo man. A car carrying some weird sci-fi macguffin needs to be repossessed. It goes from there. It’s a goofy, funny and fucked up movie. It just gets the psychic tone of the thing right. It’s not “punk” being dissected at a science fiction convention punk. It’s, here’s some old stained paperback you found on the curb punk. Something to leaf through in the welfare waiting room punk. A space artifact made by human aliens.
I miss this sort of shit. You just don’t see it anymore. Happy I finally got to see it.