Having spent 14 years of my life living on Florida’s Gulf Coast (from the time I was 12 until I finally escaped at 26) I can almost relate to Larry Clark’s 2001 film Bully. I didn’t ever suffer at the hands of a misogynistic bully, nor did I murder a close friend, but I knew an awful lot of people who reminded me of the characters in this film—a fact that becomes all the more frightening when you realize the movie is based on a true story.

Marty (Brad Renfro) and Bobby (Nick Stahl) have been friends since childhood—but it’s an uneasy friendship, marred mostly by Bobby’s tendency to bully Marty (and everyone else he comes into contact with). Marty bears the brunt of the abuse—taking beatings from his friend, being forced to dance in his underwear on stage in a gay club, and getting dissed in public with a great deal of regularity by his best ‘bud’.

Marty is a wimp though—and he takes the abuse. He’s a shiftless dropout more interested in surfing and sex than anything. Bobby might be an ass—but he’s got a nice ride, money, and a way with the ladies. Marty seems to view these as reasons to stick around despite the abuse.

Things get more complicated with the arrival of Lisa Connelly (Rachel Miner), Marty’s new girlfriend. Lisa also endures Bobby’s bullying (which goes beyond your typical bully antics and crosses over into rape) and eventually comes up with the bright idea that the only way to rid their lives of the specter of Bobby is to kill him. And hence, one of the most poorly planned and executed murders in history is set into motion. By the time Bobby Kent is dead, no less than seven young adults will have been involved in the actual murder, while countless others will have known about it before it even happens. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that this film isn’t going to have a particularly happy ending…

Returning to the fertile ground he’d previously tapped with his debut feature Kids, Clark crafts his tale of wanton sex, nihilism, drugs, and incredibly poor decision-making in a cinema verite style that is at once captivating and terrifying. This twisted story of murder gone wrong isn’t set in the seedy underbelly of a major city and perpetrated by kids who were already well on the path to becoming hardened criminals—instead, it takes place in the sunny suburbs of Florida, committed by a group of young adults from middle-class families. Yes, these kids are distanced from reality (which becomes brutally apparent as you watch their murder plot unfold—it involves more and more people as they go, and participants all tell others outside the group of their plan), but they’re not inherently bad.

In this regard, Bully is almost social commentary. Parents are rarely seen in the film and exist as little more than walking ATM machines—present only to provide a fantastic house to live in, a great looking set of wheels to drive, and to take care of any unfortunate offspring who might come into existence through all of this casual sex. Surely, as dumb as these kids were, even a moderately clueless parent could have guessed that something was up—that no one did, seems an indictment against the parents’ lack of responsibility.

Perhaps the most frightening thing about Bully though, is that it seems like it could happen just about anywhere. As scary as it is to admit it, these kids weren’t particularly abnormal—and the lifestyle they led is certainly one that a lot of other young adults participate in. In an era where oral sex is a common practice for the under 13 age group, the casual sex and vapidity of these people isn’t all that shocking. We’re raising an entire generation of Bobby Kents and Marty Puccios.

More interesting still is the moral void the film creates. While the murder of Bobby Kent is certainly wrong, it’s hard to feel too bad for the guy. Bobby is a beast in this film—a young man who’s almost assuredly gay, yet unable to overcome his own fear and loathing at the discovery and as such attacks everyone around him in a poor attempt to deflect attention from himself. Bobby rapes and pillages his way through his social circle and it’s hard not to think the world is probably a better place without him around.

Finally, much has been made about Clark’s crass camerawork and the copious sex and nudity in the film. Personally, it seems like little more than lashing out at a film because it makes an audience uncomfortable. Bully is not a feel-good film. None of the people are likeable, and it is based on a true story. While some of the film’s sequences seem almost exploitational in their presentation, it only adds to the experience as a whole. Bully is real, and real isn’t always pretty. I will say that I did find it interesting that the film goes farther in terms of graphic nudity and sex than it does in the murder sequence—yet another interesting observation on the puritanical nature of our society, I suppose.

At any rate, Bully is not a film for everyone. It’s an unpleasant viewing experience that remains captivating primarily because Clark has made it all look so real and because the murder plot is like a train wreck—it’s so bad that you can’t help but watch it anyway. If this weren’t a true story, people would complain that the characters were too dumb to be real—that they were real people only makes it all the more disturbing.


Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD
Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening