Michael Dowse brings fresh hoser humour to the screen with FUBAR and It's All Gone Pete Tong

TAKE ONE, March-June, 2005 by Lindsay Gibb

AS I READ the blurb about Calgary-born filmmaker Michael Dowse in the 2004 Toronto International Film Festival program guide for his sophomore feature, It's All Gone Pete Tong, I was surprised. Accompanying his credits, including fine accomplishments like his debut film FUBAR, was a note about his education that I wasn't expecting. Most of the biographies on filmmakers in the program guide list accomplishments such as "she took film studies here" or "he studied theatre there," but in Dowse's bio there was something a little different--an MBA from Yale. I wondered, how does a man who went to Yale to get a master's of business administration end up making films in Canada for a living? Especially one like FUBAR, which has become, since its release in 2002, something of a head-banging hoser classic.

It turns out, this biographical information speaks more of Dowse's sense of humour than it does of his academic qualifications. When I ask him about it, I don't get the story I am anticipating; instead, I'm shocked when he tells me that he made it up. He tricked me. Listening to the commentary track on the DVD for FUBAR (a mockumentary about two rockers whose lives revolve around partying), I learn that I'm not the first person he has tricked with his made-up stories. Many of the people who wound up as extras in FUBAR thought that they were in an real documentary (until, of course, for legal reasons they were asked for their consent to appear in the film). I guess shocking people with phony accomplishments is only an extension of being a comedy writer and director. It's similar to the way he writes his movies. Both are hooked on the element of surprise.

They are also based, as Dowse slyly points out, around the notion of torturing the main character. Indeed, what tortures the protagonists in his films is the surprise, or at least the beginning of a chain of surprises. At the beginning of FUBAR, the main characters, Terry (David Lawrence) and Dean (Paul Spence), are one-dimensional. They are so-called adults trying to extend their youthful lifestyle by drinking, non-stop partying and breaking stuff, living a life of carefree idiocy. It isn't until we learn that Dean has testicular cancer that we discover there is more to the film than just laughing at the shenanigans of two idiots.

The same thing happens in It's All Gone Pete Tong, a faux biopic about a world-famous DJ Frankie Wilde (Paul Kaye) from the U.K. Instead of FUBAR's long-haired hosers who drink beer all the time and only talk about partying, in Pete Tong we get a cooler-looking guy who gets wasted all the time and only talks about partying. Despite the similar idiotic exterior. Wilde is a more complex character than either Terry or Dean, and the surprise in Pete Tong--while also medical--is more of a career ruiner than it is life threatening. Wilde, a brash remix genius and superstar of the Ibiza club scene with loads of money and fans, goes deaf. "The first drafts I wrote about Frankie, he had the same decline [as he does in the film]. But he was just a drug addict, which wasn't that interesting to me." says Dowse. "Then it hit me; probably the worst thing that could happen to a DJ is that he goes deaf."

While the torture of his lead characters undeniably creates an underlying serious tone to FUBAR and Pete Tong, Dowse's purpose is to make people laugh. When Wilde loses his hearing, the film doesn't lose its sense of humour. There's a very funny scene where his agent, Max Hagger (Michael Wilmot), tries to tell him that he has lost his hearing, and the classic "you're-deaf/sorry-I-can't-hear-you"-type banter is utilized. However, Hagger's sarcasm, juxtaposed with the ditzyness of Wilde's response, gives new life to this old dialogue. Even the way Dowse approaches Wilde's drug addiction is witty, if a bit disturbing. Every time Wilde attempts to break his cocaine habit, a frightening, human-sized, plush badger pushes him back into the white stuff. The badger is scary, with white powder caked under his nostrils and an evil expression plastered on his face. But the humour comes in the extreme steps the badger takes to keep Wilde on drugs--and the little apron and fairy wings he wears are a cute but odd touch.

When asked how he fits into the Canadian film scene, Dowse hesitates and doesn't seem sure how to answer. "I like making comedies, so hopefully I can fit in that way," he says after a bit of a think. "Making films that people can actually respond to because they're funny would be a step in the right direction." He feels many Canadian films are made without any audience in mind, which may be part of the reason why so many never get seen. In fact--and this may seem an odd complaint coming from a director--the reason for this is that too many homegrown films are director driven. "I think a lot of directors in English Canada get whatever the hell they want, and I don't think that necessarily equates to better films," he says. He feels that if directors were curbed more often by their producers and made films that were commercially viable instead of, as he puts it, "a personal exploration of their past." there might be more of an audience for Canadian films.