UNCLE PECKERHEAD (2020)
Sometimes films are a fanciful escape that let us experience new and different worlds from what we encounter in our chosen lives. Other times we find ourselves immersed in fiction so relatable it feels like it was made just for us.
Imagine my surprise at finding a film that captures my own personal zeitgeist and the title ends up being UNCLE PECKERHEAD.
I can say without hyperbole that watching this movie felt like reading my own diary at points. Call me an egomaniac but I’m here for that. “Aw Uncky Veeters,” you adult babies say, “we don’t want to peer into your crummy Garfield journal riddled with pizza stains and fanfic of Geena Davis from TRANSYLVANIA 6-5000!” First of all, judge much? It’s a spectrum and we’re all on it! Second, I wouldn’t be here on my digital cinematic soap box singing the praises of a film if I didn’t think Matthew John Lawrence’s first feature had merits well beyond my idiosyncratic tastes. “Harrumph” says the presumably arm-crossed aforementioned skeptical fictional reader, “then why don’t you sell us on this oddly titled film. Do it! We’re right here! Do it now!” All right, then.
If you’re going Arnold, I’ll go Marisa Tomei from MY COUSIN VINNY (1992) and allow me to explain.
Written and directed by Matthew John Lawrence, UNCLE PECKERHEAD is a 2020 splatterpunk/comedy about a scrappy punk rock trio quitting their day jobs to go on tour, only to find their van being repossessed the day before they’re scheduled to depart. Desperate for transportation, our band (delightfully dubbed “DUH”) makes a deal with the proverbial (perhaps literal) devil by allowing a personable old kook, who introduces himself as “Peckerhead,” to act as their driver/roadie in exchange for use of his van. Handshake agreement including free labor? What could go wrong? DUH needs the wheels so they make the deal. It’s a punk rock road movie with a horror subplot simmering below the surface, but these elements are played largely for laughs. Think LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE FABULOUS STAINS (1982) as a Troma film.
What you won’t read on any synopsis is the abundance of humor and heart seeping from every scene. This isn’t a scathing indictment of tour life. This isn’t a movie about how hard the road is and how unforgiving the “scene” is. The road is hard, and the scene is unforgiving, but the picture is really an elaborate love letter to the do-it-yourself ethics of independent music and film, all wrapped in a warm flour tortilla of grisly gore, knee-slapping humor, and some really righteous tunes. I shit you not, the music of DUH—courtesy of Jeff Riddle who also plays guitarist/singer of the aforementioned punk trio—is actually awesome and worthy of accolades independent from its inclusion in the film. In movies about bands the music can come off as contrived, or disingenuous, but not so in UNCLE PECKERHEAD. Thought and care was put into the original music, and I really appreciate that in a low budget movie about punk.
The band has chemistry together with performances as likable as they are quirky. This is still a micro-budget B movie, but each character is an ably played archetype with copious charm that keeps you rooting for them. Judy (Chet Siegel) is as judicious as her name would suggest. She assumes the role as band leader with an air of drive and circumspect while projecting plenty of pluck. Max (Riddle) is whimsical and childlike wandering through the film like a lovable lost puppy while Mel, played by Ruby McCollister, is dark and deadpan with a fatalistic bent that is hilariously juxtaposed against her bandmates' sunnier dispositions. David Littleton (as the titular Uncle Peckerhead) perfectly balances a surface level folksy good humor with something surprisingly sinister boiling underneath. The dichotomy is enhanced in no small part by a bevy of blood and a pleasant potpourri of practical effects. All these performances gel together to create a truly endearing ensemble.
While awesome portrayals of fully realized characters whose music is actually good is more than enough to get a green light from me, the aspect of this film that resonated so strongly with me is the one-two thematic punch of the interpersonal particle accelerator of D.I.Y. touring and staying true to yourself in pursuit of your passions.
The movie demonstrates how deep feelings run when you’re desperate and living outside your comfort zone. When you’re toiling on a passion project in obscurity, minor wins are celebrated harder, while petty slights cut a little deeper. DUH is a bit blinded by their modest ambitions. When confronted with opportunities that could be construed as compromising, each member overlooks the red flags flapping in the breeze only to have them bite them in the ass down the road. These are lessons and themes seldom explored in film and are refreshing as they are riveting in UNCLE PECKERHEAD.
That’s where the rubber really meets the road for me, personally. Seeing this movie after spending two decades in the warm bosom of Chicago’s D.I.Y. punk scene allowed me the pleasure (and pain) of living almost every role in this film. While embarrassing at times, the characters in this flick rang true which is something punks don’t get a lot of in modern media. The substance of UNCLE PECKERHEAD is both entertaining and enlightening to a lesser known human condition, ladled with a heaping helping of blood and guts, making Lawrence’s film a true delight to watch. Do yourself a kindness and stream it, buy it, find the tunes, and sing them loud!
