It presents a complicated portrait of its subject, Mel Gibson, who, between films, supplements his income by working as a cabbie in New York City and peddling conspiracy theories to anyone who'll listen. It explains how it was traces of government mind control conditioning that led to his mastery of the crazy-eye in the LETHAL WEAPON series (and beyond)
And how he used the art of collage to mend his wounded mind.
In its torture scenes (this documentary contains not one, but two lengthy Gibson torture scenes!), it reveals the reasons behind Gibson's life-long obsession with sadomasochism (LETHAL WEAPON 1-4, RANSOM, PAYBACK, BRAVEHEART, THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST, et al.)
The 'ole scotch tape on the eyeballs maneuver
and in its capturing of the paranoid mindset, it shows that there are truly sinister cabals everywhere,
mostly of the sort that cause Gibson to wander out of a hospital and pop up, unannounced, in the backseat of your automobile.
In closing, it certainly ranks high among other Joel Silver-produced documentaries– such as the story of cryogenically frozen supercop John Spartan (as explored in DEMOLITION MAN), the quirky study of a musically inclined cat burglar (in HUDSON HAWK), and the exploits of a brassy bouncer who tames dirty bars (in ROAD HOUSE).
2 comments:
No comments eh? I guess ol' Mel still makes everybody uncomfortable.
While he may not be an admirable person off screen, he gets a pass from me for his roles of Mad Max and Martin Riggs alone. Even so, I've only seen Conspiracy Theory once, and it didn't seem all that memorable.
Buck,
Heheh, Mel's a little too hot for some to handle. I mean there's a lot of factors in there, not the least of which is his wacked-out dad and upbringing, but regardless I can definitely separate real-life Mel from zany, crazy-eye, THREE STOOGES-luvin' Mel, and it doesn't affect my unyielding love for LETHAL WEAPON or BEYOND THUNDERDOME.
At any rate, CONSPIRACY THEORY just struck me as sort of ridiculous, in that half of the dialogue could actually be uttered by real-life Mel in one of his drunken stupors or answering machine rants; sort of a love letter to the tin hat crowd.
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