Brutally Stark `Romper Stomper' Captures Adrenaline Rush Of Hatred

Movie review

XXX "Romper Stomper," with Russell Crowe, Daniel Pollock and Jacqueline McKenzie. Written and directed by Geoffrey Wright. Varsity theater. "NC-17" - Under 17 not admitted. Contains graphic violence, profanity, nudity. -------------------------------------------------------------------

If Australian-film-critic-turned-writer-director Geoffrey Wright's intention in making "Romper Stomper" was to burn its subject into the minds of viewers, he has succeeded.

Wright's brutally stark portrait of the last days of a Melbourne neo-Nazi skinhead gang won't easily be shaken, and it can't be thoughtlessly dismissed as an unnecessary reflection of an unpleasant problem. Like "Menace II Society," it demands to be responded to, for the simple reason that, if this film were to be viewed by a superior alien race, they would instantly deem humans primitive and unworthy of survival.

That leaves "us," in the collective sense, plenty to answer for - as opposed to "them," the hateful skinheads that the film so authentically examines. But Wright isn't pitching a tract about social responsibility or offering any pat solutions. What "Romper Stomper" does exceedingly well is hold a mirror up to the sheer nihilistic futility of the skinhead lifestyle. In this respect, he has created a wildly controversial film that is both achingly unpleasant and gripping in its denouncement of the blindly ignorant racist and fascist mentality.

Wright's plotless narrative follows the rampant acts of hatred provoked by Hando (Russell Crowe, from "Proof"), leader of a skinhead gang that has waged war on Vietnamese immigrants in Melbourne.

Hando is the only true believer in Hitler's legacy; his followers, including best friend Davey (Daniel Pollock), are merely aimless, unemployed and addicted to the rush they get from their violence. The adrenaline of hate provides the illusion of power, and when the Vietnamese youth outnumber and ambush them, they quickly find another target: the wealthy father of Gabe (Jacqueline McKenzie), an incestuous rebel whose anarchic bent is given outlet among the skinheads.

The title can be taken literally; there's nothing subtle about Wright's NC-17-rated treatment of skinhead violence. It's messy, chaotic and viscerally repugnant. There's no morbid fascination here; the urge to leave the theater is compelling.

There is also, undeniably, a certain dubious indulgence on Wright's part, focusing on extremities of behavior - insane partying, vile conversation and animalistic sex - when he might have illuminated the origins of the skinheads' fatalistic outlook. Hando's gang may be "dramatically worthy," as Wright has said, but we don't get much sense of why or how they got that way. They simply are.

Given this limitation, they remain vividly portrayed, and there isn't a performance in the film that doesn't ring utterly true. That lack of compromise is what redeems this plunge into hell.

As for the tiresomely misguided issue of "glamorization," the final word goes to Wright: "Anyone who accepts Hando as a role model might as well be embracing a hand grenade . . . a certain pathetic quality surfaces, reminding them, and us, that they are scared, small people who need reassurance and some kind of love after all."