Writer and director Jared Hess’ first feature film, Napoleon Dynamite, had a very modest opening weekend with just six theaters making more than $100,000. Yet for some reason, it remained in theaters for an incredible 241 days.

How the film became so ubiquitous is a question for history.  As universities are now offering classes in “The Simpsons,” maybe a decade will give rise to some exploration of the cult of weird Hess represents. For the moment, only the label “bully porn” describes his work, and that applies to the mainstreamers who jumped on the bandwagon later on for dubious reasons. There’s still a core fan base that neither wants to make fun of the characters, nor truly identifies with them, yet are inexplicably drawn to the je ne sais quoi permeating the screen. I know, for I am one of them, having gone twice during the opening weekend to see Napoleon Dynamite and later becoming dismayed at the kinds of people walking around with “Vote for Pedro” shirts. I felt it was not their movie. They didn’t see what I saw—to them it was only bully porn.

Hess’ most recent film, Gentlemen Broncos, is weird on so many levels that it’s hard to even describe. Benjamin is homeschooled and writes sci-fi novels aspiring to be like his idol, Ronald Chevalier, played by Jemaine Clement from “Flight of the Conchords.” Desperate for ideas, Chevalier takes Benjamin’s book titled Yeast Lords: The Bronco Years to a writing conference and passes it off as his own. Little else can be said of the story, except that popcorn balls form one of the main sub-plots.

One thing the film does well is give meaningless things far too much attention. Isn’t that what made Dynamite popular? Of all the quotes that film spawned, which was most salient to the plot? But the same thing doesn’t work as well in Gentlemen Broncos. Think of Hess as a musical group. The first release is fresh and strong. The second re-treads old themes, but with less imagination, it borders on sophomoric. The third is the dreaded concept album and can be too cumbersome for enjoyment even by fans of the original.

The “meaning” that Hess seems to be working with in Broncos is the undercurrent of all his work. He looks at originality in pure form and how it functions within art and business. Hess might have continued to explore this theme implicitly, but instead wrote it into his script. Benjamin struggles with his creativity while the world either ignores him or takes from him only selections like a musician never appreciated, yet sampled. It’s impossible not to draw the connection to Hess himself, especially when film is brought up in the narrative.

At the same time, Hess would openly examine these issues. His film is actively engaged in what might generously be called creative expression. It defies convention, put more obtusely, it doesn’t make sense. Structure is severely lacking and the script seems to have rejected any conventions like a bad implant. The original filmmaking competes with the message of originality. Either might have worked, but together they only flounder.

The most enjoyable parts are by far when we are taken inside the world of Yeast Lords. Sam Rockwell plays the hero of the book, Bronco, who’s on a quest to recover his testicle while battling innumerable Cyclops and mechanical reindeer.  Jemaine Clement is also wonderful as the delusional science-fiction author.

chronicle@colum.edu