In this very special post, I will be sharing an essay I wrote on one of my favorite topics: Andy Sidaris films. Despite how I use his work to argue about the meaning and nature of art, I really enjoy his oeuvre. He and Arlene Sidaris created a successful career by giving people exactly what they want.
I will be forgoing the typical format of my blog for one major reason: most of the films are almost exactly the same. Even though the plots (or what could be considered as a plot) are different, the good and bad of each is almost exactly the same for me. I will instead be discussing the filmography as a whole and discussing its importance in relation to the failings of post-modernism and the very nature of art.
As far as a recommendation: start with Hard Ticket to Hawaii and see if you can take much more weird early-90's alternate reality surfer culture.
151. Malibu Express
152. Hard Ticket to Hawaii
153. Picasso Trigger
154. Savage Beach
155. Guns
156. Dallas Connection
157. Fit to Kill
158. Enemy Gold
159. Hard Hunted
160. Do or Die
161. Day of the Warrior
162. Return to Savage Beach
Late Night Trash and the Limits of Auteur Theory
Determining the Nature of Art in a Post Modern World
Auteur theory is one of the most important filmic concepts in the history of the medium. Not only did it begin an important cultural awareness of film as Art, but it also allowed specific artists to be celebrated and studied. This is not to say that the theory is without issue. Most of what determines who can and cannot be considered auteur is problematic and vague. This is due more to the Post-Modern conceptualization of Art, and the tendency to expand Art’s definition rather than to define it. This essay will attempt to utilize the premises made by Andrew Sarris to make a more specific definition of Art, as well as a litmus test to determine whether a director can be considered an auteur. The movies of trash-film director Andy Sidaris will be used to test this new definition of Art and auteurism.
Auteur Theory
The lasting legacy of Cahiers du Cinema and the French New Wave is auteur theory. The theory, which claims that the director is the primary artistic voice of a film, not only allowed for cinema to be considered a legitimate form of art, but it also normalized a specific type of artistic hierarchy in the organization of how films are made. Auteur theory stressed that the director was not merely a technician, but the true author behind film-as-art. This was a novel concept when it was first conceived, as the writer would seem like the most obvious person to be considered as the author of the film. Seeing the scriptwriter as the author is based on a misguided assumption that film is made in the same way that novels are created. Scripts are not literature, they work merely as a blueprint for a film. To quote David Cronenberg in his opening introduction to a book of his screenplays, “How can anyone possibly read a film script? A script is not writing. A script is a ghost of something not yet born.” (Cronenberg, vii)
The development of auteur theory essentially made the acceptance of film-as-art a mainstream conception. Although prior to the work of Bazin and the rest of the critics behind Cahiers du Cinema, there were small pockets of artists that were utilizing the medium as a form of high art, not to mention the artistic voices of the people who were making films under the guise of mass entertainment, it was this explosion of French criticism and filmmaking that launched the understanding of filmic expression into the modern age. Film was no longer considered exclusively a form of entertainment, but a form of expression.
The positive effect of auteur theory on the filmic medium is immeasurable. Not only did it change the understanding of what the medium could express for the average audience, it also guided how directors and screenwriters interacted with and developed their own work. Although directors such as Bergman, Renoir, and Hitchcock had always worked hard to develop their own personal style, it opened the doors for a larger percentage of the industry to see the director as an artistic voice. It is arguable that the last four decades of film would not have been possible without the concept of director as auteur.
This is not to say that the development of auteur theory has been without debate. The very nature of how films are made allows for a myriad of arguments as to who’s voice is actually heard through the medium. Much of the debate concerns the question, “Who is the auteur?” Focus on this question is valid, but is far from the only concern to be found with the theory. There is another question that not only determines the limits of the theory, but also the very idea of what can be considered art. Auteur theory has yet to determine whether an auteur should automatically be considered as an artist. Does a filmmaker having a clear and specific voice automatically allow them to be considered a true artist of the medium? The answers to these questions have become even more relevant as auteur theory has been increasingly utilized as a marketing strategy rather than a celebration of artistry. This question has also become pertinent in the current post-modern culture. Not only has the definition of Art [For the sake of clarity in this discussion, Art with a capital “A” will be utilized to refer to the historically important and culturally significant pieces that are to be considered worthwhile of criticism. Lower case “a” art is to refer to any form of personal expression.] expanded to include almost any form of personal expression, but the tools and distribution capabilities have been made available for anyone who has access to the internet. Answering the question of auteur as artist, and how to define one as such will also help redefine what it means to be an artist in the current cultural climate.
Andrew Sarris was one of the first film critics to address and respond to auteur theory. His notes on the theory helped shape how we understand it in the post French New Wave world. Sarris determined in 1962 that there are two premises, or rules, that determine whether a director can be considered an auteur. The first of these rules is that the director must be technically and cinematically competent. In Sarris’ words, “A great director must at least be a good director. This is true for any art.” (Sarris 562) Sarris argues that a director must at least know how to use the tools at their disposal. He is at least referring to lighting, coverage, color, art direction, editing, and use of sound. Presumably performance, storytelling capability, and blocking could be included as well, but this is where the lines become vague. What is the difference between a good and a great film? Is there a way to make a distinction without falling to subjectivity and gut feelings? Sarris offers the second rule almost as a qualifier for the first. In order to be an auteur, the director must have a specific voice that becomes clear through their work. He points out that many auteurs even return to the same themes and stories time and time again.
Sarris’ definition is decidedly simple. He quickly dismisses the argument against directors as auteurs, and then refrains from delving very far into the rules that he sets. The simplicity of his arguments is helpful in defining the basics of the theory, but does little to remove the vagueness from the concept. It does not help that the first rule of his definition has become harder to define as the technology and accepted visual quality of cinema has expanded with the acceptance of post modernism and the saturation of home video. The rules he sets also do nothing to challenge the new tendency to use auteur theory as a new marketing gimmick. Most directors who have made more than four films follow his two premises. His definition of auteur theory is widely accepted despite the holes in its reasoning.
Bullets, Bombs, and Babes
In order to reveal the limitations of this definition, it is pertinent to discuss the work of Andy Sidaris. Sidaris began his career after getting a degree in journalism at Southern Methodist university. Almost immediately after graduating he was hired as ABC’s very first Monday night football director. His direction shaped how television networks cover sports events. He eventually won seven Emmys for his work directing sports, including one primetime Emmy for his coverage of the 1968 Summer Olympics. His best known addition to the medium was his tendency to insert shots of the fans between plays. He especially liked to show shots of the cheerleaders and attractive women in the audience, a type of coverage he called the “honey shot,” a practice that would set a precedent for his work as a director of feature films.
Sidaris began making films with a feature-length documentary on James Garner entitled The Racing Scene (1969). This film was never widely released due to a dispute between Garner and the film’s producers. He would follow up this film with two others during the 70’s: Stacey! (1973) and Seven (1979). Neither of which would gain much traction. Sidaris became frustrated after his experience with directing films. He made the decision to make his next film without any sort of artistic interference.
Malibu Express was made for an estimated $500,000 for his own production company. The plot is a rehash of some of his other films, as well as the inclusion of several extra subplots. In essence the story is a murder mystery, although it deviates from the primary plot on an almost constant basis. Besides the murder mystery, there is also a Russian double-agent subplot, an attempted comedic subplot featuring a hick family that is obsessed with racing Cody, the main protagonist. There is also a blackmail subplot, as well as a Countess subplot. As with most of Sidaris’ films, these subplots are all wrapped up through dialogue during a final scene where nearly the entire cast stands on a boat, drinking champagne. Structurally the film is a mess, most of it displaying the same storytelling skill that you would expect from a thirteen year old boy playing with his action figures. Despite the terrible critical reception, Sidaris ended up making a profit on the film.
There are two primary reasons that Sidaris made a profit on Malibu Express. Firstly, he made it very cheaply and quickly. Secondly, the film is unapologetically sleazy. He hired several Playboy models (as well as B-movie queen Sybil Danning) for his female leads, and frequently showed them topless and in softcore pornographic scenes. Sidaris’ filmmaking approach did especially well overseas. The film was marketed as a sexier riff on James Garner’s Maverick TV show, and a more “American” version of James Bond. Emboldened by the success of Malibu Express, Sidaris quit his job as a sportscaster and teamed up with his new wife, Arlene Sidaris, to create the second installment in what is now called his Triple B series (or Bullets, Bombs, and Babes) films, Hard Ticket to Hawaii.
Hard Ticket to Hawaii is arguably the most successful expression of Sidaris’ cinematic style. He learned valuable lessons from Malibu Express, which he brought to his production of Hard Ticket. The most important of these lessons is that people wanted to see women on screen. For Hard Ticket he decided to make his protagonists female, a method that his wife and producer Arlene Sidaris describes as a “reverse gender James Bond.” (80’s Picture House) This had the obvious benefit of allowing more opportunities for sleazy nude scenes, but it also allowed for something much more surprising. By making the the women the lead characters in the film, Andy and Arlene Sidaris ended up making a series of films that were more progressive towards women than mainstream Hollywood action films. Every one of Andy Sidaris’ movies after Malibu Express pass the Bechtel test. Unlike other attempts at making “woman friendly action films” Sidaris’ films do not use rape or helplessness as character motivation for their women. The women in their films (most of them government agents for a secret division called L.E.T.H.A.L.), are consistently the best agents in the films, and very often the ones in charge. In fact, the imaginary agency is saturated with female leaders from top to bottom. This is never pointed out as odd or strange, but completely accepted by the film’s world. On top of all this, men are frequently treated as nothing more than eye candy for the female protagonists, much in the same way that women are treated in James Bond films.
The woman friendly nature of Sidaris films began only after Arlene signed on as Andy’s producer. This is not a coincidence. In interviews, Andy is always quick to point out Arlene’s influence on his stories. “I write [the scripts] and then Arlene reads them and rewrites them. She puts things in there like plot, story… she works a couple of weeks on them, but then when we get to location I do what I want to do.” (Briggs) The collaboration worked well for them, as they were highly successful at making these types of films. After Hard Ticket to Hawaii, the couple started making films exclusively for television distribution in the states. Overseas theatrical box office continued to thrive for the films, however. Producing films for television game Andy Sidaris more of what he wanted in his art; he had complete artistic control. When he had to release the films theatrically in the states, he was subject to the ratings board, which very often would give him trouble. On late night pay-for-cable, however, Andy became king. Not only did his films do well on late night cable, they helped shaped the late-night trash tv genre. They all had extended runs on television.
With his Triple-B series of films (12 movies in all), Sidaris was able to tap into the cultural zeitgeist of early 90’s X-treme culture. At the end of the 1980’s and into the mid 1990’s, the abundance of wealth and culture resulted in a generally complacent art and film scene. Unfettered capitalism was celebrated, as was the freudian symbolism that represented American imperialism: the action star. Even the resistance to capitalism was accepted and utilized for capitalist purposes, as many films geared towards family utilized the trope of the career driven dad who has to learn that money isn’t everything; all the while Touchstone Pictures, Disney, and a host of other production company made money hand-over-fist through the marketing and success of such film.
The action star was king, though. The genre was reshaped for consumption by all members of society, but it was specifically aimed towards young men and boys. This is obvious in the proliferation of “tough guy” video games, where sweaty, muscled he-men would use swords, bazookas, and uzis to take on legions of 16-bit aliens, robots, or ninjas. It was obvious in the slate of movies that were released during the era. It was obvious in the hero’s of the era, with Arnold Swarzenneger becoming such a popular star that a cult of personality grew up around him and continues to this day. It is obvious in the way Americans felt about the Gulf War, and it was obvious in the exponential popularity growth of comic books in American society. The action hero, typically a muscled white man who had to save the coded feminine aspects of society, such as scientists, mothers, children, politicians, etc., would be challenged by vaguely ethnic and shadowy figures. After a short period at the beginning of the film where their more violent tendencies would be kept in check by a slimy, stubborn intellectual type, the leash would be cut, and their love of violent conflict would reign supreme. In the end, violence would always save the day.
This trope of course does not begin in this era, [These tropes actually begin in earnest during the cold war. It was during this time that capitalist American imperialism was branded as the masculine ideal, while communism was seen as feminine or even blatantly homosexual. Most of what the American masculine ideal consists can be traced back to this pseudo-religious, pro-American, pro-capitalist wave of propaganda that began in the early 1950’s.] but it was refined and taken to new extremes. Blood was mostly removed, but the characters became more and more extreme and straightforward. The whole genre became a caricature of itself. Andy and Arlene Sidaris tapped into the caricature and utilized it for branding, and in their opinion, artistic potential. What interested Andy Sidaris about the genre was not what interested many other directors and writers working with action films. He was less excited by the violence, and much more interested in the inherent sexualization of action film heros. This fetishization of his films’ protagonists goes beyond the almost mechanical nude scenes he includes in his movies. The men and women are fetishized in his cinematography, his color correction, his editing, and even his dialogue. While most action films skirted around the homoerotic nature of their male stars, Andy Sidaris embraced it. Although there was a lack of openly gay men in his movies, they were just as sexual and visually exploited as the women. Bruce Pehnall, one of Sidaris’ regular cast members, spent the majority of his screen time either shirtless or in an open leather vest.
Despite the trash-film nature of his movies, they are consistently well shot, well edited, and well designed. There is a definite intentionality to his work. As with many auteurs, Sidaris returned to the same themes of crime, violence, and friendship throughout his filmmaking career. Unlike many auteurs, though, he was able to achieve a sense of artistic control over his work that is typically unheard of in the art of filmmaking. Like Bergman, Sidaris worked with the same actors throughout most of his career, with Dona Spier filling in as Sidaris’ Liv Ullman, and Rodrigo Obregon as his Gunnar Björnstrand. As far as Sarris’ two rules of auteur theory go, Sidaris fulfills both requirements. He is a technically competent, award winning director, and he has a very specific voice that makes its way onscreen. Even the two films in the Triple-B series that he merely wrote and produced have his obvious stamp on them. Technically speaking, Andy Sidaris is a film auteur, but does that mean his work can be considered Art?
Sidaris’ work is ridiculous and juvenile by any measure. The official plot synopsis of any one of his films reveals the strange and often unintentional weirdness that permeate his storytelling. Hard Ticket to Hawaii for instance begins with a straightforward drug smuggling plot, but is quickly weighed down with an escaped snake that is infected with a type of super-cancer, two bumbling sportscasters, as well as a big bad guy that lives in an office complex somewhere on the mainland. This, along with an Amazonian warrior, a bad guy named Skater who’s launched into the air by a bazooka while holding a blow-up doll, and a bladed frisbee throwing contest load down the film and make it more of a celebration of a culture rather than a discernible plot.
Although the films are obviously bad, they are still arguably successful in their intent. It could actually be argued that Andy Sidaris was consistently more successful than the majority of filmmakers that we consider auteurs, but does this make him an auteur? If he is an auteur, does that automatically make him an artist? In order to answer these questions, Art must be defined, as well as the difference between art and Art.
Modern Art
After the expansion of what society deems Art during the 20th century, we have reached a point where most anything can and will be called Art. There is very little that has not been on display in a museum or critically analyzed. Recently a teenager left a pair of glasses on the floor of a museum and the clientele believed that it was one of the pieces on display. (Hooton) This is not an isolated incident, either. After the success of Duchamp’s found Art pieces, Art critics and patrons alike have had an ever increasing desire to include the average and mundane into their realms. Much of this new normal in the art world seems to be based upon the desire to “get” something first. This is especially true in the post internet society. Everything is at our fingertips, and the joy of finding something that few other understand or love is becoming harder and harder to experience. An arms race of sorts has grown from the new reality, with people digging deeper and deeper to find things in our history and culture to deem “worthy” or “amazing.”
What Duchamp accomplished with his found objects set a new precedent of what could be considered art. Although this rightly removed the long list of requirements set by the art world for centuries, it also opened the door for a flood of art being mistaken for Art, pieces with no intention or care invested in their creation. It also made it possible for companies to market mass produced, uninspired music, film, and art as Art, thus making Art a commodity. Art should not ever be considered commodity. Commodity can be artistic, as well as inspirational for Art, but that is not Art’s purpose. Duchamp was right in demonstrating the artistic value in the objects he found, but he was wrong in claiming authorship over those objects and claiming them as Art.
Art can be determined by two factors. These factors are essentially a simultaneous expansionand refinement of Sarris’ original two premises concerning auteurs. While Sarris’ statement created a vague and mostly subjective view of what it meant to be a film artist. These two factors will attempt to make a clear definition of art in the modern age. Within this definition will remain room for debate and subjective artistic criticism, but it will hopefully close loopholes that could allow films such as Hard Ticket to Hawaii to be considered the expression of an auteur.
Firstly, Art must demonstrate that the artist has a considerable understanding and skill with the chosen medium. This includes more than just technical efficiency, but a real demonstrable understanding of the history of the medium, as well as a deep understanding of how the audience will interact with the finished product. This is where a true definition of Art, as well as auteur differs from Sarris’ view. The ability to make a film is much different than to understand how the audience with experience it. Sidaris arguably had no clue how his films would be accepted, but was able to stumble upon a formula that allowed him to continue making work. His jokes are very often unfunny. His moments of intended excitement are laughable. His sex scenes play out like the fantasy of a twelve year old boy that had never seen a woman’s body. He created stories that play out like juvenile fan fiction, but he just happened to do so with such joy and personal authenticity that others were able to enjoy the end result.
Secondly, Art must have the express intent to comment upon the cultural and societal status quo. This does not limit Art to only political pieces, rather it demands that Art will attempt to address and respond to the human condition. This removes the false concept of“art for art’s sake.” If there is no interaction with what it means to be human, nor a question that arises from the piece, than it has failed as Art and should merely be considered art. Art must ask a question, and in auteur theory this question could be considered the director’s voice. This qualifier would also remove Sidaris from the pantheon of film auteurs. Although he does have an interesting gender element in most of his films, it never develops fully enough to become an actual question. His sleazy nude scenes also undermine any message he may be trying to say about women in mainstream Hollywood film. The question he seems to be asking is, “Isn’t this awesome?” which does not pertain to the human condition, but rather the expression itself in what is arguable a shallow and unnecessary way. Heidegger says in The Origin of the Work of Art that, “It all rests in the essence of truth. But what is truth in that it has to happen in such a thing as someone created? Truth is un-truth, insofar as there belongs to it the reservoir of the not-yet-revealed.” (Heidegger, 185) The intent behind any piece of Art must be the desire to uncover the truth of what it means to be human. It is a search for what we do not understand, rather than a restatement of the facts. If it does not contain a deep longing for truth, it should not be considered Art.
Lower case “a” art on the other hand is a much broader category. Any personal expression could be considered art. The only limit in this category is that of commerce. Commerce should not be considered Art, nor should it be considered art. The work of artists can be utilized for commerce, but the resulting “for-sale” object should not be considered an artistic function. Art is imperative to the survival of culture and history, art is important to the people who make it, commerce is important for those who wish to get money from the end result. An example of art is the drawings of a five-year-old. That expression is incredibly important to the child’s development, as well as to their mental health. It could even be important to the parents or grandparents of the child, but it does not fulfill the two basic requirements of Art, nor is it important amongst a large portion of society. Calling a child’s drawings art is not an attempt to limit their importance, but rather demonstrate the very narrow way that they are important. In this way most anything can be considered art, but it does not mean that it should be accepted as cultural touchstone, nor should it be held at the same level or to the same standards as Art.
Andy Sidaris’ filmography could fit into this category. He made the films without studio interference and they were a very personal expression of what he wanted to see in the world. The line begins to blur here considering that he also used them to make money, but the fact that his films were not a mass produced, mass marketed product, but rather a lovingly crafted expression, makes it clear that they were considered art. He even calls them art in several interviews, although no one else in the production agrees with his assumption. [This is not to say that commerce is inherently void of merit. There is a completely different discussion to be had concerning film as commerce and where that line could be drawn.]
Conclusion
Auteur theory has many limits and grey areas. Determining the author of such a collaborative medium is inherently difficult due to the vague nature of its production, although that it is often accepted that other fine art mediums can have one author despite the collaboration of studio assistants and the creation of materials by other hands than the artist. If a cinematographer should be considered auteur of the piece, then too should the person who creates and mixes the paints used in an oil painting. These arguments will most likely continue on until it has become much more accepted that film is an art on the same level as painting, sculpture, or even theatre.
Is an auteur an artist, though? If you are considered one are you automatically considered the other? If a film can be considered Art, and this essay assumes that it can, than the filmmaker who creates Art must be considered an artist, and by the definition assumed this essay, they must also be an auteur. This is what makes a director an auteur: their work must be able to fit the definition of Art. This definition does not contradict Sarris’ assumption, rather it is a clarification of the original article’s thoughts on authorship. Culture has thoroughly embraced post-modern thought, and it is important to demonstrate that the prevailing feeling of “everything goes” is not an effective or fair way to consider Art.
Works Cited:
80’s Picture House: In Conversation With Arlene Sidaris, 2014. Podcast.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F5U_av5DRk0
Briggs, Joe Bob. Excerpt from Monstervision with Joe Bob Briggs. Special Feature on Fit to Kill. DVD. 1993.
Cronenberg, David. Collected Screenplays 1. Faber and Faber, London, England, 2002.
Heath Jr., Glenn & Carter, David. Bullets, Bombs, and Babes: The Films of Andy Sidaris. Not Coming to a Theatre Near You. Web. 2012.
http://www.notcoming.com/features/andysidaris/
Heidegger, Martin. Basic Writings. Book. Harper Collins, New York, NY, 2008.
Hooton, Christopher. “A Pair of Sunglasses Were Left on the Floor at a Museum and Everyone Mistook it For Art,” The Independent. Online Magazine. 2016.
http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/art/news/a-pair-of-glasses-were-left-on- the-floor-at-museum-and-everyone-mistook-it-for-art-a7049551.html
Martin, Mick & Porter, Marsha. The Video Movie Guide 2001. Ballantine Books. 2000.
Sarris, Andrew. Notes On The Auteur Theory In 1962. 1st ed. New York: N.p., 1962. Web. 19 Mar. 2015.
Truffaut, Francois. “A Certain Tendency of the French Cinema,” Cahiers du Cinéma. Magazine. 1954.
