Rent The Fanatic (2019)

The Fanatic (aka Moose) review by Mark McPherson - Cinema Paradiso

Autism has been portrayed in movies in a number of troubling tropes. Characters have either been posed as burdens on a marriage, a savant to be romanticized, a genius to be saved by gun-toting bad guys, or just someone to pity. Now comes The Fanatic which poses someone with autism as a deranged and obsessed movie fan capable of murder in his anxiety. Even if you can divorce yourself from the unhealthy depiction, this still a mean-spirited and vile thriller that leaves all sense of humanity and coherence at the door.

Jon Travolta plays Moose, a movie fan with autism and a bad haircut to match his tacky outfit. I suppose I should be grateful that Travolta is at least playing more of a character than his dreary performances in countless and forgettable crime pictures. I won’t forget his performance as Moose but for the wrong reasons. He goes off the script as an over-the-top autistic man. He rocks back and forth, trails off into talk of horror movies and becomes loud when frustrated. He also strangles people and wishes that Freddy Krueger would chop off their heads. It’s a performance that ranges from laughably bad to troublingly vile.

Moose is obsessed with Dunbar, an actor who he desperately wants an autograph from. But Dunbar is a jerk. He blows off events, refuses autographs in public and has problems with his ex-wife. When Moose tries to stumble his way into getting Dunbar to sign something, Dunbar turns into an angry man that harasses Moose. If Dunbar had any sense of empathy and humanity, he’d merely put on a face to give Moose an autograph and send him on his way, never to see him again. But, as I said, no humanity here. There’s no organic plot progression either as the troubling thriller continues on.

Right away from this story, we can see one major problem; there’s nobody to empathize with. We may feel bad for Moose but he’s portrayed as unhinged and dangerous. We may feel for Dunbar given that he is being harassed by Moose but Dunbar is unkind and just as violent and mean towards others. So when the inevitable moment arrives in this thriller of them trying to stab each other, who do we root for? This feels a bit like the Kobiyashamaru test from Star Trek, where there is no way to win by choosing a side. But instead of this test being about fear, it’s about testing how much of a soul one has.

The film was directed by Fred Durst and it ranges from decently shot to confoundingly cobbled. Several scenes are diced in a confusing manner due in no small part to an inconsistent script that forgets about characters and doesn’t question the legality or character intentions. Easily one of the most pompous parts of the picture is when Dunbar flips on Limp Bizkit and comments on how the music was the best back in the day. For the record, I listened to his music “back in the day” as the target demographic and thought it was garbage. Sure, the climax has some nice dark shots of lighting but to what end?

That’s a question that should’ve been asked constantly during this production past the obsession with the parasocial thriller aspect. Another question; what does this film say about those with autism? That they should be feared and locked up for being dangerous figures? I doubt this was the intent and that Durst, acting as co-writer, made this choice because it seemed tantalizing to explain away Moose’s behavior with a mental disorder, a cheap ploy for provocativeness. But if this is anyone’s first exposure to autism, it’s a deeply hateful portrayal that generates unhealthy preconceptions. For years, gay and trans people have tried to snuff out the toxic trope of gay and trans characters being portrayed as killers, deceivers, and villains. That struggle should tell you enough that using autism in the context of a killer is a huge step backward, especially with a film so vapid with empathy.