(Usually, Cole Abaius can be found writing up reviews and making snarky observations for FilmSchoolRejects.com, but we've invited him to guest blog for us in order to get an objective, third-party review of Along Came Kinky, a new documentary chronicling his 2006 Gubernatorial campaign. FSR has been all over SXSW, so for more of their coverage, check out Film School Rejects. - promoted by Phillip Martin)
The opening scenes of Along Came Kinky fill the screen with the visage of a weather-beaten man lighting up and chomping down on a cigar. For those within the borders of the Lone Star State, this is an iconic image, but for most everyone outside the loop, it acts as a solid introduction to the figure that will loom largely over the rest of the film. That first smoke that fills the room seems to permeate the rest of the frames, reminding the audience that even if the film diverts to take a look at another campaign, Kinky is always hanging around as the true focal point.
In a general way, there are two distinct types of documentaries - biographies and event pieces. The former focuses on the full life of a compelling figure while the latter focuses on every angle of a single event, attempting to tell as many sides of the story as possible. What director David Hartstein has done with Kinky is to create a conflation of the two, chronicling an event from only one side, looking at a man during a small time in his life, and the film greatly suffers for it.
Taking a look at the Texas gubernatorial race of 2006, Along Came Kinky follows the independent campaign of the musician and humorist - spotlighting a campaign volunteer from Bexar county, giving insight into the grassroots system, and getting to know Friedman on a more personal level.
For the most part, the movie is an interesting attempt. Kinky is a compelling figure and obviously sharp, although he doesn't seem quite compelling enough to carry the film. He's funny and quick, but he repeats jokes and carries himself a lot like George Carlin on Valium. If there was once a fire in the man, it's almost all but been doused. His scenes in the documentary, especially his public speeches, make him seem like a father telling bad jokes at the dinner table who figured out how to make a career of it. On the flip side of that, the private moments of the documentary do reveal a sadder figure - a man who has spent a large amount of his life doing what he felt was right, a man who barely hides his bitterness behind humor, a man who is inches away from admitting that the system is just too strong to fight.
But with a severe lack of footage from the Strayhorn campaign or the Perry campaign (and only a bit from the Bell campaign) the film rests entirely on Friedman's shoulders. It seems obvious that Hartstein was simply denied access to the other campaigns, and it's commendable that he just showed up to events with a camera - the perseverance of a true filmmaker - but the dearth is noticeable and transforms the documentary into a near-apology for Kinky. The subjectivity is as exposed as Kinky was during the gubernatorial debate.
What the film does well, though, is to create a fascinating interior look at the Texas election climate and the inner workings of an independent campaign for major office. Along Came Kinky succeeds in displaying what seems like a gross stranglehold by a single party (and the near-complete impotence of the other) made even stronger by election/campaign laws. If nothing else, the film succeeds in being a champion of the cause of an independent movement. Building on that theme, Kinky's campaign achieves a similar feat, making strong arguments for the need for more competition in the process. Oddly enough, though, it isn't watching Kinky's campaign that makes this most obvious - it's the complete lack of Governor Rick Perry's involvement in the campaigning process. It's clear that the governor was absent for most of the fight - making the frustrating theme of fighting the good fight against a hubris-filled enemy even more palpable.
Respectably, the film shows an inclination that it's not actually a love-letter to Kinky by displaying the failings of the independent campaign and its ultimate downfall. There's a sense that Kinky gets the last word on the gaffe that would ultimately sink him, but the movie does spend a decent amount of time displaying the events that came after Kinky made a comment that many felt over-generalized Katrina victims in Houston as crack addicts and welfare seekers. What becomes clear for the first time is that the candidate wasn't well-prepared for public speaking, that the campaign didn't handle the gaffe which allowed it to grow.
The movie also comes close to presenting the fall out as a product solely of the mainstream media. It never goes all the way, but it comes close to dipping its toe in the pools of towing the Kinky Campaign line.
The very brief scenes of the interior campaign planning also act as an incredibly interesting bird's eye view of the limitations of the team. While the very argument against machine politics is being made by some of the entities in the doc, the lack of the strengths that professional machines have (e.g. communication focusing, image polishing, tight organization) is made abundantly clear within the walls of the Kinky campaign.
Ultimately, this film is a mixed bag. On the one hand, it offers something that no other film can by way of an inside view into a rare event. On the other, it's neutered by its lack of access to the other campaigns. From time to time it becomes engrossing, but it's ultimately a lackluster flick. It's built well, structured decently, and has a compelling figure. However, it's one weak link is its inability to share the rest of the story, and that weakness makes the film little more meaningful than the smoke coming out of Kinky's cigar.
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