Fanboys
Directed by Kyle Newman
Running Time: 90 min.
Set in 1998, the decade that began pop culture’s fragmentation, Fanboys finds comedy in movie fanaticism. Four Ohio-bred, post-high school Star Wars geeks—Eric
(Sam Huntington), Linus (Chris Marquette), Hutch (Dan Fogler), Windows
(Jay Baruchel) and a smart tagalong female—make a pilgrimage to
Skywalker Ranch, the new Mecca.That may sound trivial, but something’s
genuine in the esoterica Fanboys explores: Fights with Star Trek fans
(“trekkies” vs. “trekkers” vs. “Lucashounds”); reckless encounters with
the adult world (cops, drugs, prostitutes); and diehard devotion to a
less-than-serious movie franchise.
Dull social commentators compare Star Wars to religion, but Fanboys commemorates how crazily fans anticipated the opening of Star Wars Episode I:The Phantom Menace. Impatience
about George Lucas’ continuation of the series reveals the camaraderie
within their pop infatuation. Despite a solemn plot motivation that
reunites Eric and Linus after a couple years of post-graduation estrangement, Fanboys is actually about the sweetness of innocuous/inane
adolescent passion. Director Kyle Newman satirizes geek erudition as a
common cultural trait. Eric, Linus and their pals balance childishness
with rebellion; their resistance to growing up is recognizable and
sweet—truer than the sappy bonhomie of crude, tasteless Superbad.
Although the very title Fanboys designates the wave of cultural elitism that makes certain film fans obnoxious and frightening, Fanboys offers
democratic counterpoint to snobbish cinephilia. Post-boomer culture
gave way to an arrogant generation—posed somewhere between pinheads and
philosophers—who fragmented into trivial subcultures and hierarchies.
Only Alex Cox’s Searchers 2.0 is sharper about this phenomenon, yet it remains the best unreleased movie of 2008. Beginning in 1977, Star Wars was the last such watershed movie event; it achieved what the lugubrious Lord of the Rings trilogy never has: a true following. LOTR simply proved a later era’s subjugation to hype and commerce. Ironically, some Star Wars faithful
did cross over to that dark side, demonstrating what critic Gregory
Solman identified as the false maturity of fickleminded consumerism.
(That’s why people who once thrilled to Chewbacca were unreasonably
irritated by Jar Jar Binks.) Screenwriters Ernest Cline and Adam F.
Goldberg unpretentiously show fan mania represents a desire for meaning
among modernist, post-religion groups. Star Wars itself isn’t
rich or beautiful enough to express this yearning; fans had to meet it
three-quarters of the way.Their connection to pop culture is different
from previous identification with rebel heroes and role models in
previous decades. Star Wars mania is a symptom of both lost
faith and bad education; yet, as Linus tells Eric: “This was never
about the movies but about all of us.” It ain’t exactly
art-appreciation, but it’s something, and the cult-worthy icons—from
the great Danny Trejo and Billy Dee Williams to Seth Rogen and Danny
McBride—who pop up throughout Fanboys (including Kristin Bell’s Zoe, an uncanny tribute to small-town Parker Poseys) testify to the desire for meaning. It’s like a Star Wars dream— but funny. Hard to imagine better comedy this year than the Menudo, Fu-Shnickens and Rush references. Fanboys amasses
the disparate cultural artifacts that paradoxically occupy our
consciousness. Sampling Rush’s “Tom Sawyer” says it all: “Catch the
mist/Catch the myth/Catch the mystery/Catch the drift.” It’s a ticklish
footnote to the Star Wars phenomenon.
