"That's not a knife...oh, wait....yes it is. It's lots of knives."
Within the first 5 minutes of Robert Rodriguez’ Machete all taste, decency and logic has been completely abandoned in favour of madness, cartoonish ultra-violence and a woman hiding a mobile phone up her twat. The opening scenes are so brilliantly in-yo-face that it’s like driving past a not just a car crash, but a pile-up of clown cars and vans full of fireworks. Picture this: we open on a dusty Mexican highway with our hero Machete (Danny Trejo – a man SO HARD I think his moustache could whip me at arm wrestling on its own) and his reluctant Federalé partner disobeying direct orders and speeding toward a drug lord’s hideout to save a kidnapped girl. The partner doesn’t last very long of course. He is almost instantly rubbed out by bad-guy gunfire leaving Machete to humbly apologise to a corpse (“.…lo siento….”). He then proceeds to cut off a man’s arm and use it to shoot yet more baddies. Then he cuts off a bloke’s head and for good measure cuts the head in half (I believe this is commonly known as a ‘belt & braces’ approach). More decapitations then follow and a couple of skewerings - blood is exploding all over the stereotyped Mexican mise-en-scene as Machete finally finds the ridiculously beautiful and completely naked girl and attempts to haul her out to safety. She tries to coax him into bed first of course, but he shuns her advances so she stabs him in the thigh. Our bollock naked damsel in distress then pulls the aforementioned phone out of her lady-pocket and we learn of Machete’s double crossing.
Then – and only then – do we know this film is going to be completely mental – because Steven Seagal makes his entrance. It’s one of the best mood-setting openings I’ve ever seen.
The trick with a film like Machete is to leave your brain somewhere else. Maybe in a different postcode. Its’ brilliance can be found in its’ complete lack of any kind of morals or decency and how completely unapologetic it is for this approach. Rodriguez wants to stay faithful to his original fake-trailer (the film started life as one of the fictitious mini-trailers during Rodriquez & Quentin Tarantino’s Grindhouse double bill) and he does so by dispensing with all question of taste. He clearly has a love of 60s & 70s exploitation cinema and there are very blatant nods to the genre through the duration of the movie. There are also heavy dashes of tongue in cheek comedy and action so insane that my mouth was constantly wedged open, making me look like a gawping lobotomy recipient. In fact, they should show this movie to people who have had lobotomies. They’d love it.
One such cross-genre scene takes place in a hospital where you start out expecting a tense prolonged fight scene but end up laughing as Machete takes control of the situation and winds up abseiling down the building using a man’s entrails. Bravo, Mr Rodriguez.
This unique directorial approach is complimented by an ensemble cast who are clearly having WAY more fun than should be allowed when at work. How many films can boast a cast that includes Robert De Niro, Jessica Alba, Lindsay Lohan and even fucking Cheech from Cheech & Chong (playing a shotgun wielding priest, of course)? Not many. De Niro looks like he’s having more fun than most playing the psychotic Texan Senator and it’s about time we saw him having a good time. Little Fockers & New Year almost made me lose faith in him, but Machete shows that he isn’t just doing it for the money these days. The cast is so good I would happily get them all to remake any film from the last 50 years with this cast & director. Cheech would be a brilliant Oskar Schindler. De Niro: Darth Vader. I may even put Lindsay Lohan in the role of the little girl from Miracle on 34th Street, but only if Steven Seagal can be Santa Clause.
For a Saturday night in with pizza, beer and a couple of mates, I cannot think of a better film to watch. It’s available on BluRay & DVD – go get it. Just probably not one for your Mum.
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