

Jackass lives at the intersection of 90s skater culture, early internet culture, and a unique form of relatable and absurd underground comedy. At its surface, it IS just a bunch of men harassing, torturing, and pranking each other for laughs. But at every point, the talent gives their earnest attempt at the bit. Everyone is committed and proud of what they put their bodies through on camera. Seeing what these men put themselves through for a single take, sometimes multiple times, puts the question of “why?” into the viewer’s head. I don’t know if I really have an answer, but there is a certain level of friendship that is the key thread linking all the movies. As they commit horrible and disgusting acts to and for one another, they are intently committed to what they put on screen. So in essence, the stunts and pranks become a sort of performance art, and a time capsule for a specific form of millennial era comedy. One that, while extreme, has been an incredibly influential force across media. That influence appears directly in this film, in the presence of Eric André and members of Odd Future: people who are currently appreciated for their artistry, comedy, and mixture of both, from TV to film to music. By bringing them in, Jackass Forever directly links the franchise to this culture and, in a way, makes a statement on it as an influence within the American psyche. It has given influence and garnered appreciation across racial, gender, and class lines. That reach is part of why I find the crew’s appreciation of art, specifically queer art, so fascinating, incorporating references to the gay community and LGBT figures from the very beginning. As a franchise associated with heterosexual men, a queer reading of the franchise feels necessary. Their fascination with each other’s bodies and lack of boundaries around them feeds into the gross-out factor, yes, but also speaks to the masculine relationships they hold. Is it healthy? I’m unsure. Is it gay? Kind of. But there is something special about watching these men go through such horrible experiences, then at the end of it all wholeheartedly support and love one another. That same commitment to realness carries into how they treat the cinema experience itself. They clearly have an appreciation for it, which speaks to how they produce these movies. The films always have a behind-the-scenes factor that speaks to the realness of the stunts they put themselves through, but also serves as a rejection of the normal movie experience. There is no plot line or themes or really any dialogue. Just men trying to make each other laugh in the most extreme ways possible. So as for the content, I find myself thinking more about what Jackass represents and the place it holds in people’s hearts as these friends eagerly run into the next wall, or bull. I don’t remember it as a movie, but more of how it made me feel. The feeling of going through it feels more special than the content of it. Jackass, as a movie, is more of an experience than a film. In the end, I really do get a little emotional as the credits roll.

