- Culture
- 19 Mar 04
It’s somewhat slight, but this endearing whimsy should find many admirers, and will court particular favour among stoners and grampires.
Extremely affable madcap comedy inspired by one of the more bizarre footnotes in rock mythology – the kidnap and D.I.Y. cremation (just the ticket for idle bank-holidayers) of Gram Parsons’ body.
In 1973, seasoned road manager Phil Kaufman decided to honour a promise made to Gram Parsons (he of The Byrds and Grievous Angel fame) before the singer’s untimely morphine-fuelled demise. According to Kaufman, who was consulted for this project, he and Parsons had recently attended High Catholic Mass commemorating the passing of a friend. The experience prompted them to think about their own funeral services, and Gram settled on a desert cremation so that his spirit might soar among the Joshua trees, and commune with nature and so forth.
David Caffrey’s (Divorcing Jack) weird and wonderful lo-fi account of this episode deviates significantly from facts to facilitate screwball antics. Kaufman (impressively essayed by Jackass idol Johnny Knoxville) gets saddled with a hippy-hearse driver (Shannon), and has a gold-digging harpy (Applegate) and Gram’s long-absented father (Jackie Brown’s Forster) hot on his corpse-swiping trail. (Parsons’ own Southern aristocrat parents were dead by the time he finished high-school.) Cue knockabout comedy through the cacti, and driving along picturesque highways to the strains of ‘Return Of The Grievous Angel’ and other similar tunes (Rory Gallagher and Primal Scream both make an appearance).
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The real star though is not the twang, it’s Knoxville. Here, his manic capacity for rage finds a neat screwball foil in Shannon’s vegetarian dope-fiend, making for some appealing comedic chemistry. Unfortunately some of the supporting characters aren’t quite so much fun. Applegate’s untamed shrew could have been less migrane-inducingly shrill, while Forster’s guilty pater is a little underdeveloped.
Still, Grand Theft Parsons (BTW – fab title) is forged very successfully from the same mould as fellow US indie-coms Happy, Texas and Welcome To Colinwood. It’s somewhat slight, but this endearing whimsy should find many admirers, and will court particular favour among stoners and grampires.