So what do a wild-animal trainer, a robot
scientist, a mole-rat specialist, and a topiary gardener have in common?
Improbably enough, there are many different answers to that question in Errol
Morris' 1997 documentary Fast, Cheap & Out Of Control, which makes associations
between four interview subjects whose lives have never overlapped. But the
first answer is this: They're all a lot like Errol Morris—obsessive,
passionate, iconoclastic, and one of a kind. From his 1978 debut feature Gates
Of Heaven,
Morris has refused to play by the documentary rules, whether in choosing his
eccentric subjects (a California pet cemetery in Gates, an execution-device
designer and Holocaust denier in Mr. Death, the numerous colorful characters in his First
Person
series) or with his radical style, which defies both the austere PBS model of
talking heads and archival footage, and the fly-on-the-wall vérité of Frederick
Wiseman and D.A. Pennebaker. His audacious use of staged reenactments in The
Thin Blue Line
set the stage for many disreputable TV news-magazine segments to come, but they
also freed an innocent man from death row. And though the follies of the Bush
administration have lately inspired him to expand his scope to the political
arena in The Fog Of War and Standard Operating Procedure, Morris' focus is no less
acute and detail-oriented, and his stamp is still unmistakable. He's one of
only a small handful of filmmakers who can be identified within a few seconds
of watching a movie; the director's credit is superfluous.
Perhaps more than anything he had directed
previously or since, Fast, Cheap & Out Of Control is a window inside Morris'
thought processes, because the film's peculiar rhythms and associations are
entirely self-generated. Otherwise, you'd be left to wonder why someone spliced
together footage that might have comprised four episodes of First Person a few years later. Linking
interviews from four guys who don't know each other and operate in entirely
different fields sounds like an editor's worst nightmare, and it's made more
confounding by the fact that there's no unifying chronology. There are a lot of
ideas floating around—some specific to what the men do, others more
abstract and philosophical—and it's Morris' challenge to bring order to
them without making the film contrived or forced. This no doubt took a great
deal of planning in the interview stages and raised all sorts of transition
problems in linking one subject and observation to another, but the miracle of
the film is that the connections feel intuitive, as if Morris were making them
on the fly.
The four subjects are the type of men who would
never think about retirement, because they care too much about what they do:
Dave Hoover knew he wanted to be a wild-animal trainer at the circus from the
early age, when he watched his hero, actor and trainer Clyde Beatty, appear in
cheesy serial adventure movies with titles like Darkest Africa. He's a veteran performer
at the Cole Bros. Circus, working a 40-foot ring with ferocious lions and
tigers spry enough to dash across a football field in three or four seconds.
Ray Mendez thought he'd received some sort of divine blessing when he learned
of the naked African mole rat, and threw himself eagerly into studying a
creature that burrows underground and lives in stable, constant temperatures.
(It has no hair because it doesn't need heat, it doesn't have the ability to
shiver because it's never cold, and it doesn't sweat because it's never hot.)
Rodney Brooks is an MIT robot scientist who strives to create machines that
function independently from human control, and imagines a future where
silicon-based life forms replace their carbon-dependent counterparts. And
finally, George Mendonça is a gardener at a Rhode Island topiary garden that
features shrubbery in the form of animals, including a giraffe, a bear, and an
ostrich, among other whimsical creations.
Perhaps inspired by Federico Fellini's "circus of
life," Morris swoops deliriously from subject to subject as if filming a
four-ring circus, and the effect is more hypnotic than illustrative. All his
stylistic tics—including the same jarring mixed formats (from
color-saturated 35mm to super-grainy 8mm) that his cinematographer, Robert
Richardson, used for Natural Born Killers, plus a Caleb Sampson score performed by
the Alloy Orchestra—are designed to break down viewers' defenses and make
them more receptive to the film's steady stream of abstract ideas. Early in the
film, we're learning the basics of mole rats and hedge-trimming, and before we
realize it, our minds are open to ruminations on life, death, consciousness,
and the very nature of human existence. Really, the best possible explanation
for how the movie works comes from Dave the animal trainer, who explains in
this clip how "four points of interest" affect a lion. In this metaphor, we're
the lion:
Dave talks about the lion getting confused and
agitated, and it's possible to have that reaction to Fast, Cheap & Out
Of Control,
which assumes viewers will adjust to its unconventional wavelength. But the
process of working through the movie and trying to understand it goes
hand-in-glove with what these four men (and Morris) are laboring to do
themselves: Create order out of seeming chaos. Dave knows that those lions and
tigers would eat him alive if he didn't distract them with chair legs and other
bluffs to make it seem like he's in control. George regularly defies the will
of nature by sculpting his gardens in a way that the elements constantly seek
to undo; when a storm wipes out a giraffe's head in mere seconds, he speculates
it'll take three or four years to restore. Ray and Rodney both work in fields
where the actions of the individual, be it a mole rat or a robot, can seem irrational,
but make sense when they're part of a collective with a common goal. This leads
Rodney to the conclusion that sending 100 one-kilogram robots to do a job that
might be given to a single 100-kilogram robot is the best solution; as an
example, he says that when watching a school of ants carry breakfast cereal
across the floor, some might drop it, but the task continues. Hence the title
of Rodney's paper about the use of robots for interplanetary exploration: Fast,
Cheap & Out Of Control: A Robot Invasion Of The Solar System.