Cornman: American Vegetable Hero (2000)

Posted on Nov 05, 2003 under Action-suspense, Comedy |

Written, produced and directed by Barak Epstein
Starring
- Mike Wiebe
- Adam Lockhart
- James Hoke
- Melissa Bacelar
- Russell Gavin Cooper

There are normally two kind of funny. The more common variety is the intentionally comic, where the entire purpose of the performance is to elicit laughter. The other kind is unintentional; it only occurs in those circumstances in which a supposedly serious production fails so completely in its intent to elicit suspense, excitement, lust, etc., that it provokes derisive laughter instead. (The classic example is Plan 9 From Outer Space, but let’s not be so hooked on the glories of the past that we overlook the unintentional yuk-fests of today such as Battlefield Earth.)

“No, I will NOT blow up balloons at your daughter’s birthday party!”

Somewhere in the grey nether-regions not covered by either umbrella is camp. Camp is sort of a nebulous term, but most often it means that the creators intentionally tried to elicit the “so bad it’s funny” reaction. Talk about confused goals — if doing it well means to try to do it so badly that it actually turns out good, how do you know if you’ve really succeeded or accidentally failed? It’s an exceptionally risky proposition, as quite often intentional camp can come across as a self-aware, self-congratulatory, masturbatory conceit. (As you may be able to detect in the preceding sentence, I’m probably not the most appreciative audience for intentional camp.)

If any of the discussion above made the name “Troma” leap unbidden to your consciousness, you know exactly what I’m talking about; Troma has built its entire reputation around movies which are not just schlocky, but intentionally so bad that there’s no way you could criticize them (because, hey, you can’t say anything bad about them without somehow validating directorial intent). Cornman wasn’t released by Troma, but the kinship is kinda hard not to pick up on, since Troma movie posters are displayed prominently throughout, and Troma’s Lloyd Kaufman does a three-minute intro to the feature.

“Just once, I’d like to be able to tuck in my own shirt!”

Having said all of that, is there really any point in continuing this review at any length? Probably not, but utter pointlessness has never stopped me before. And it is worth pointing out that, on some level, by some set of standards seen from a warped perspective, Cornman kinda works.

Who is Cornman? Why, he’s a superhero with the ability to communicate psychically with corn, of course, as bequeathed by a toxic waste accident in a cornfield. Along with his sidekick Butterboy (Noe Garcia), Cornman fights the evil machinations of Dr. Hoe (Mike Wiebe), a supervillain with a hoe for a hand — or rather, who holds the head of a hoe with a hand cunningly wrapped in tin foil.

You’ll notice that I didn’t give a credit for Cornman. That’s because there are actually two actors for the part, Adam Hoke and James Lockhart. They switch out in the middle. The director comes on screen, tells the first Cornman that he’s just not believable any more, and gives the costume to the second Cornman. And while they’re at it, they switch out his girlfriend Sheila at the same time (from Lauren Graham to Melissa Bacelar).

Sidekicks’ Home Study Course material.

Who else is along for the ride? Well the Corn Agency Protection Agency (no, I didn’t mistype that) has also sent the Psychic Nose (Daniel Villareal) along to help Cornman; he can smell things before they happen. In Dr. Hoe’s corner, there’s his redneck sidekick and whippingboy Starch (Blair Rowan), a mutant hybrid called Cornsparagus (Russell Gavin Cooper), and a whole troop of the requisite incompetent footsoldiers.

And they’re all fighting over corn. Remember that; this is a very specific niche for superhero/supervillain conflict. (I wonder if Archer Daniels Midland knows about this?)

The Little Green Sprout finally hits puberty.

I started watching with my guard up, and the intro from Lloyd Kaufman didn’t help things. I was ready to give my thumbs-down to a movie made by a bunch of guys who wanted to show the world how funny they thought they were.

But somewhere along the way, I started to understand the proceedings in a different light. This isn’t a movie that tries hard to convince the audience it’s funny; instead, it simply shows what Barak Epstein and his friends already think is funny. If there’s a stand-out advantage to micro-budget cinema, this is it: A filmmaker can reasonably make a movie which fulfills no one’s expectations except his own. Cornman is a movie made mostly for the filmmakers’ amusement; they put in the stuff that was funny to them, and fun to make besides. And if you don’t think it’s funny too, well, you weren’t the target audience anyway.

Not that I’m opposed to brainless nudity per se…

Long ago, when I first started this reviewing stuff, I noticed that microbudget movies had a certain personal charm, as if you were not so much watching a feature as being invited in on a private joke between casual friends. I kind of lost that attitude as time went by, mainly because so many of the microbudgeters I saw after that point buried whatever personal amusement they might have contained under stupid, derivative attempts at exploitation. (Trust me, indie movie folks — if I want to see brainless violence and nudity, I can easily find it in professional direct-to-video productions. I don’t need to see your attempts to give me the same thing for five bucks with your uncle’s camcorder.) But Cornman harks back to that earlier-identified ethic; this is a film that friends made together because the making amused them, and you’re welcome to enjoy it with them if you can join in on the good times.

Because of all that, my normal standards of quality judgment don’t apply well. I can’t tell you that this is a very good movie. On the other hand, I would as soon trash it as I would sneer at a crayon drawing magneted to a refrigerator.

“Better than Troma” may not exactly be a ringing endorsement, but hey…