Society’s death knell? Performance art taken to its most logical, postmodern conclusion? Or a bunch of fearless stoners arsing (sometimes literally) around and getting paid for it? Whatever your opinion of Jackass, the big screen expansion — it’s not really a movie, by any strict, nor loose, definition of the word — practically demands your attention.
There’s no cinematic merit here, but there’s a certain surreal invention behind some of the more outlandish skits — all hail he who conceived the Bungee Wedgee! — and once you pluck up the courage to peer through your fingers, this is painful and painfully funny.
And with an interesting anti-authoritarian streak a mile wide (lead Jackass Knoxville takes tremendous delight in pissing off golfers with a well-timed klaxon), this is pure punk rock cinema.
