His name is Bruce
Bruce Campbell
What do you get if you mix the classic comedy The Three Amigos with the cult classic Evil Dead series of humorous horror films?
You get Bruce Campbell's new movie My Name Is Bruce, an indie flick (you'll rarely see Bruce starring in anything else) in which actor Bruce Campbell ostensibly plays himself kidnapped by his #1 fan, who has seen far too many of his movies and earnestly believes Bruce can save his town from a very real Chinese demon. Campbell, of course, simply believes that the whole situation is a grand example of method-acting, and his agent is behind it all
Something about these types of films fascinates me, perhaps because by their very nature we see so few of them. Nothing like My Name Is Bruce could exist if Bruce Campbell himself were not America's great B-movie icon, patron saint of the working-class actor - a status he cemented in 2002 with his extremely successful autobiography If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of A B-Movie Actor (the obvious problem with his having become famous for taking on awful roles, of course, is that he has thereby created his own career's ceiling; God knows, he'll never get headline work as anything else now - but that suits the reportedly very humble Mr. Campbell just fine). Since he is, a wonderfully unique little cinematic experience has been created, one which doesn't even require a high level of quality to be enjoyable: a tribute to and roast of an awful sub-genre, encapsulated in a tribute to and send-up of a man identified with it more than anyone, starring the man himself.
And starring him in a way which is not offensively worshipful. Just as musicians sometimes betray their total self-obsession through songs about themselves (e.g., Fergie's stunningly odious "Fergilicious"), movie stars' occasional forays into self-portrayal often feel uncomfortably egotistical. Mel Gibson's cameo in Paparazzi is an example of self-portrayal done right: with a touch of self-deprecation. According to early reviews, My Name Is Bruce takes the same approach, but runs with it.
"[Bruce is portrayed as] rude to his cast mates and crew, hitting on a pretty co-star with some more terrible one-liners, treating his fans like dirt, attempting to fire his incompetent agent (played by Ted Raimi in one of three roles), finally retiring to his trashed mobile home where he gets drunk and passes out on Shemp’s Hooch..." (Ain'tItCoolNews.com )
You can't help but like that; sure, nobody (at least, nobody worth taking seriously) blames Chuck Norris for signing onto Sidekicks - as Roger Ebert writes, "Norris is believable in the role, not so much because he is playing himself as because he is the kind of nice guy who actually would do something like that" - but Campbell's approach is far more entertaining.
At least, it would be entertaining if I were to go see it; I doubt any theaters in Korea will be showing it (in fact, I doubt more than a handful of mainstream theaters in the U.S. will be showing it). So it goes; I'm not the target audience anyway, and to appreciate something is one thing, to enjoy it quite another.