Apocalyptic Nostalgia

Now that Armageddon is actually breathing down our necks, it’s sort of cute to look back at all our quaint, fancy ideas about how the end might pan out — especially in movies, where post-apocalyptic scenarios are less a warning than an enticement to some grand new adventure where hunky good guys in steampunk rags wage war against evil fuckers in spiked hockey masks for the last drop of water, gas, food, etc.

For Hollywood, the days after the end of days have always meant good, filthy fun, and perhaps no era of film has been more charming and celebratory about planetary demolition than the period running from the mid-’70s to the late ’80s, and best exemplified by the priapic picaresque of Road Warrior.

Secretly, all the boys want to be Mad Max, and all the girls want to sleep with him.

A new movie out of Canada makes great hay with cinema’s cultish obsession with a post-apocalypse that looks more like a Western than the end of Western Civilization. Turbo Kid — directed by François Simard, Anouk Whissell and Yoann-Karl Whissell — is at once a cornball parody of ’80s cult-adventure flicks and an homage to the reconstructed romanticism of that era, which gave us everything from Indiana Jones and Star Wars to Evil Dead and Back to the Future.

The year is 1997. Acid rain has devastated the planet. The Kid (Munro Chambers), an orphan with comic-book dreams, meets a gorgeous girl robot named Apple (Laurence Leboeuf), and the two — along with Frederic (Aaron Jeffery), a sort of Mel Gibson-Harrison Ford hybrid — are pulled into a desperate battle against the warlord Zeus, who makes water by juicing human bodies. Disappearing down a trap door during a chase scene, The Kid discovers the abandoned armor of Turbo Man, giving him super powers.

And the games are on.

Turbo Kid traffics in our nostalgia for all things ’80s, from the cult films of that era to cultural artifacts ranging from the Rubik’s Cube and BMX to Walkmans and View-Masters. With tongues firmly planted in cheeks, the filmmakers pile on the cheese, giving us familiar one liners (“The water — it’s people!”) and tapping into a hodgepodge of genre staples: the sci-fi wastelands of George Lucas, Spielberg’s buckets of blood, the zany gadgets of Robert Zemeckis, the karate slapstick of Sam Raimi.

Mostly, it works, and when it doesn’t, it’s still fun in an “oh, yeah, I get it” sort of way. The film is largely carried by Leboeuf who — ironically, as perhaps the most infectiously effervescent example of artificial intelligence in the history of film — gives this idealized wasteland just the right dash of humanity and hope.

Turbo Kid opens Friday, Aug. 28, at the Bijou Metro.

A Note From the Publisher

Dear Readers,

The last two years have been some of the hardest in Eugene Weekly’s 43 years. There were moments when keeping the paper alive felt uncertain. And yet, here we are — still publishing, still investigating, still showing up every week.

That’s because of you!

Not just because of financial support (though that matters enormously), but because of the emails, notes, conversations, encouragement and ideas you shared along the way. You reminded us why this paper exists and who it’s for.

Listening to readers has always been at the heart of Eugene Weekly. This year, that meant launching our popular weekly Activist Alert column, after many of you told us there was no single, reliable place to find information about rallies, meetings and ways to get involved. You asked. We responded.

We’ve also continued to deepen the coverage that sets Eugene Weekly apart, including our in-depth reporting on local real estate development through Bricks & Mortar — digging into what’s being built, who’s behind it and how those decisions shape our community.

And, of course, we’ve continued to bring you the stories and features many of you depend on: investigations and local government reporting, arts and culture coverage, sudoku and crossword puzzles, Savage Love, and our extensive community events calendar. We feature award-winning stories by University of Oregon student reporters getting real world journalism experience. All free. In print and online.

None of this happens by accident. It happens because readers step up and say: this matters.

As we head into a new year, please consider supporting Eugene Weekly if you’re able. Every dollar helps keep us digging, questioning, celebrating — and yes, occasionally annoying exactly the right people. We consider that a public service.

Thank you for standing with us!