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Scott Timberg on Creative Destruction

"Repo Man" and Punk LA

December 15, 2009 by Scott Timberg

NOT long ago the LA Times put together a Sunday package on the best films about Los Angeles. I was lucky enough to draw “Repo Man,” a movie I watched so many times, with two different posses of high school friends, that the film’s dialogue became a kind of subcultural code.

The film is being screened tonight at New York’s Lincoln Center, in an honor we would not have expected as we shouted lines back to the TV screen while drinking pilfered beer back in the ’80s.

And of course I was pleased to see “Repo Man” screened at the Guadalajara International Book Fair a few weeks ago as a canonical LA film — alongside more obvious choices like “Chinatown” and “LA Confidential.” (The latter was the number one movie in the Times piece, by the way.)

Returning to the film as a nearly 40-year-old adult, I was struck by both how well the film had stood up and by the sense of lost promise of its director and stars. (Alex Cox, who now lives in Oregon, like a lot of people who burn out on LA, released a memoir in 2008.) Much of the soundtrack — Circle Jerks, Plugz, Black Flag doing “TV Party” — still sounds excellent to my ears. This movie captured something — culturally, and in terms of the talent assembled — that didn’t last long. But it’s now a rich and complex part of LA history.

Here is my little note on the film.

Los Angeles has symbolized the end of civilization in a long list of films but rarely as memorably as in this sci-fi-inflected portrait of punk-era dead-enders. Using dirty, dingy locations in East L.A. and downtown, and under freeway overpasses, the film tells the story of Otto (Emilio Estevez), a self-proclaimed “white suburban punk” who repossesses cars after his career shelving generic foodstuffs — labeled FOOD, BEER and DRINK — doesn’t pan out. Not only does this premise offer us a deadpan-comic tour of the seamy underside of L.A.’s car culture, it allows director-writer Alex Cox to fold in a story about alien invaders, the CIA and the invention of the neutron bomb (all with a nifty nod to the ’50s noir classic “Kiss Me Deadly.”) This is the City of Angels in the wealthy ’80s, but it’s far from glitzy: L.A. is filled with guns and almost no vegetation, a huge swath of the population seems to be unemployed, racial tension is high, buildings and lots are abandoned, and every convenience store we visit is in the process of being knocked over. Instead of responsible adults we have homeless savants, televangelists and blissed-out ex-hippies. Years later, the film — a kind of hinge between “Taxi Driver” and “Pulp Fiction” — shows an L.A. that doesn’t seem that far from where we’re heading.
Bookend: Cox, who grew up near Liverpool and now lives in Oregon, worked briefly as an L.A.repo man. He’s got a memoir coming in September called “X Films: True Confessions of a Radical Filmmaker.
And here — harder to read than I’d like — is the entire LA Times feature on the city’s defining movies. Now, if you’ll excuse me, “Let’s go do some crimes.”

Filed Under: '80s, film, Lincoln Center, Los Angeles, punk

Comments

  1. Milton says

    December 15, 2009 at 10:07 am

    Harry Dean Stanton’s greatest role! (“Regular people, I %$#@&ing hate ’em.”)

  2. Scott Timberg says

    December 15, 2009 at 10:56 am

    Indeed re Harry Dean — this role captured all his weirdness. Though I also love him in Paris, Texas.

  3. Ray R. says

    December 15, 2009 at 2:02 pm

    “Repo Man’s got all night, every night.”

    Great film.

  4. Scott Timberg says

    December 15, 2009 at 2:04 pm

    I’m waiting for someone to offer the “white, suburban punk” line or the “plate of shrimp” monologue.

  5. Eric J. Lawrence says

    December 20, 2009 at 1:55 pm

    I’ve always thought having the repo guys be named after American beers was a nice touch.

  6. Rodak says

    December 24, 2009 at 7:44 am

    This comment has been removed by the author.

  7. Rodak says

    December 24, 2009 at 7:46 am

    (sorry, had to fix a typo)

    You fail to mention that the title track is performed by Iggy Pop, (a.k.a. Jim Osterberg), who was my classmate at Ann Arbor High School, ‘way back in the day.
    C’mon! Let’s hear it for Iggy!
    This is a truly great soundtrack recording.

Scott Timberg

I'm a longtime culture writer and editor based in Los Angeles; my book "CULTURE CRASH: The Killing of the Creative Class" came out in 2015. My stories have appeared in The New York Times, Salon and Los Angeles magazine, and I was an LA Times staff writer for six years. I'm also an enthusiastic if middling jazz and indie-rock guitarist. (Photo by Sara Scribner) Read More…

Culture Crash, the Book

My book came out in 2015, and won the National Arts & Entertainment Journalism Award. The New Yorker called it "a quietly radical rethinking of the very nature of art in modern life"

I urge you to buy it at your favorite independent bookstore or order it from Portland's Powell's.

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Here is some information on my book, which Yale University Press published in 2015. (Buy it from Powell's, here.) Some advance praise: With coolness and equanimity, Scott Timberg tells what in less-skilled hands could have been an overwrought horror story: the end of culture as we have known … [Read More...]

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