Perhaps the most important director native to Utah is Trent Harris. Besides two full-length movies, he has also produced a number of short films and authored the book Mondo Utah. Harris sees Utah as a Felliniesque carnival of the bizarre. While many of the political, religious, and cultural leaders of the state wish to make Utah appear no different than the rest of the country, Harris celebrates all the strange (or in his parlance, "mondo") differences. How weird is Utah? According to Harris, so weird that even former Congresswoman Enid Green Waldholtz does not qualify as "mondo."
In Rubin & Ed, we get to see plenty of strange, even "mondo" characters and goings-on. A number of Harris' favorite topics come up, such as ugly cats, rogue desert graffiti artists, small Utah towns with strange names, multilevel marketing, and Republicanism. It is surprising that Harris was given enough latitude to put in so much obscure regional detail (though nominally an independent film, Harris maintains that in reality it is a studio product).
The film starts off by introducing a pair of truly odd characters. Ed (Howard Hesseman at his uncoolest) is a middle-aged failure, the type who constantly reads Stephen Covey books, carries a Franklin planner, and goes to seminars where people yammer on about success. It goes without saying that Ed is actually impotent in every sense of the word, having been abandoned by his wife (Karen Black). Meanwhile, Rubin (Crispin Glover) is a recluse in horn-rims, bell bottoms, platform shoes, and long stringy hair. His favorite pastime seems to be squeaking a rubber mouse to the strains of Mahler's First Symphony. Disgusted (with reason) at her son's lack of a life, Rubin's mother confiscates his music until he goes out and makes a friend.
As the title indicates, Rubin and Ed do meet (I was surprised to see that the scene of their meeting was filmed at a street corner of Salt Lake City that I drive by frequently). Ed sees Rubin as fresh meat to bring into the marketing "organization," while Rubin sees Ed as a chance to get his Mahler back without actually having to go out and meet anybody. From there, the plot predictably turns into a quest to find the perfect desert spot to bury a dead cat.
The film is a Utah-flavored potpourri. There is a mystical quest through the desert, accompanied by a brilliant dream sequence involving a revivified, water-skiing cat. There are Ed's revenge fantasies, many of which are actually finally fulfilled. Never has the state looked so good as in Harris's visions, even the places which are, truth be told, ugly (such as Prague, Utah, an nondescripit little burg which looks like hundreds of other no-account towns in the state).
The cast does not do so well. Of the three leads, Hesseman does the best, cast against type as the truly pathetic Ed. Crispin Glover is far too eccentric as Rubin: on the other hand, perhaps it is simply too hard to tell where the role ends and the actor begins. From what I've read about the film, it was Glover's creation of the eccentric "Rubin" character that lead to the screenplay being written in the first place. Karen Black overplays the "emasculating ex-wife" just a bit, although according to Harris, she alone among the leads was a good sport during filming (she later appeared in Harris's Plan 10 from Outer Space for almost no salary). Michael Greene is amusing as the marketing seminar executive who is actually a fraud, although he too overplays it as the film moves along.
Although Trent Harris is not exactly to Utah as Kevin Smith is to New Jersey (he is light-years from that kind of national critical recognition), he is a major cult figure in Utah, and deservedly so. As the 2002 Winter Games approach, the state is attempting to conform to attain some sort of cosmopolitan status. Utah, however, will always be different, and Trent Harris certainly believes that different is good. I would love to see what kind of documentary he could make about the upcoming Utah Olympics. It would probably not be timeless in the tradition of Riefenstahl's Olympia, but it certainly would celebrate the state's "mondo" eccentricities.
Three stars
Copyright 1998 by Dale G. Abersold
