I LOVE BOOSTERS is a movie with ideas (arguably too many), style (in abundance), attitude (well earned), and an excess of exuberance. It works at a pace and a rhythm that can be challenging, could be annoying, could be hard to lock in on if you were distracted or in the wrong mood. If somebody hated it in the way I hated CRANK and DOMINO back in the day I would get it, though I think I would’ve liked it even then.
For a while it seems like every scene will be a conversation between characters ignoring an insane thing that’s going on that also requires your attention. An early example is the two main characters having a serious talk about their needs in life while shoplifting what I would consider to be an extremely conspicuous amount of clothes. They stuff their shirts so much they look like Klumps, but they continue their talk as they waddle across the parking lot to their getaway van, with little sense of urgency.
This is the second film from Boots Riley (SORRY TO BOTHER YOU), communist rapper turned writer/director who dresses like Paddington Bear. It’s a goofy maximalist comedy overloaded with genre tangents, convoluted sci-fi concepts, bits of stop motion and miniature models, not to mention acidic satire of capitalist exploitation, so it occurs to me now to call it Marxist Savage Steve Holland. But the truth is that what it kept reminding me of was Pee-wee’s Playhouse, Liquid Television, Alex Winter’s FREAKED – those rare pop culture miracles from a bygone era when the occasional gatekeeper saw the wisdom of giving corporate money and platforms to passionate communities of artists to take their swings at outlandish, quirky, wonderful things they really believed in. (read the rest of this shit…)
