Fan culture has produced its share of bizarre homage’s and tributes, but possibly nothing stranger than Bellflower. Taking cues both creative and spiritual from The Road Warrior, it reinterprets much of that film’s imagery and places it in a world that has, unfortunately, yet to end. But in pushing Max and the wide open desert through the hazy filter that it does, it places a sort of gauze over the raw feelings that are so energetically on display. Bellflower is certainly unique, and its practical effects never fail to impress, but its ultimate impact is muted by some of the director’s bolder creative choices.
Bellflower spends its first half hour as a mumblecore romance, albeit one with one of the more audacious meet-cutes in recent memory: Woodrow (Evan Glodell, also the film’s writer and director) and Milly (Jessie Wiseman) are the only two participants in a cricket-eating challenge in southern California. Soon, they find themselves engaged in a sort of one-upsmanship that can only result in a long-term relationship, and that relationship’s ultimate demise. They spend their first date driving to Texas on a whim; he strikes back at a man who gooses her despite being outmatched, and she is indoctrinated into his gang, Mother Medusa, organized by him and his friend Aiden (Tyler Dawson). The gang is primarily for cred should the apocalypse strike anytime soon, but it does have an impressive arsenal, the centerpiece of which is a car outfitted with a flame thrower). Once things with Milly go south, Woodrow throws himself entirely into his projects with Aiden, refashioning himself personally in the image of Lord Humungous, the iconic villain from their favorite film.
Even after more established and better-financed directors tried their hand at the car chase, there may not be an action set-piece in all of film more impressive than the climax of The Road Warrior, due to its commitment to practicality and the sheer number of components in motion. Glodell shares that commitment, demonstrating the effectiveness of his home-made weapons with both pride and glee. Glodell actually built everything that you see on screen, and employs no trickery; what you see is what you get. When Bellflower focuses on Woodrow’s flame-thrower and his car, it truly takes off into territory that action films generally don’t anymore, where you’re literally amazed that nobody was killed doing this. Unfortunately, this isn’t the focus; his broken romance with Milly is.
The color palette of Bellflower is confined to yellow and orange and black, with virtually everything in it awkwardly forced into those narrow parameters. Additionally, the camera has a hard time sitting still, suggesting ‘found footage’ from the post-apocayptic landcape that the characters seem so convinced is just on the horizon. But the orange hues feel so deliberate that the combined effect is hazy and mysterious, mirroring Woodrow’s existential confusion about Milly, and whether or not women are even worth the trouble when home-made flame-throwers never disappoint or betray you. However, there is absolutely nothing either hazy or mysterious about Lord Humungous. He has roughly the same appeal to post-pubescents that Tyrannosuars have to kindergarteners; he does whatever he wants, and everyone had best stay out of the way if they know what’s good for them. It’s not hard to see how The Road Warrior would be a compelling framework for a wounded ego to hide, but it does make one hope that at the conclusion of Bellflower, we would be marveling at Woodrow’s wrath rather than the finery of Glodell’s technique. This doesn’t negate Bellflower as a film, but it does suggest that something more forceful was hidden behind all that orange.
Bonus Features
There's a behind the scenes documentary, a featurette about the car called Medusa Rundown, some outtakes, and the original theatrical trailer.
"Bellflower" is on sale November 15, 2011 and is rated R. Drama, Indie. Written and directed by Evan Glodell. Starring Evan Glodell, Jessie Wiseman, Tyler Dawson.
