PLASTIC UTOPIA Image

PLASTIC UTOPIA

By admin | April 11, 2001

James Mirstein (David Zellner), a wimpy, whiny, morbid Mime who can’t keep his mouth shut, is one of those idealistic twits who believes that nice guys finish first. His amoral roommate Frank (Nathan Zellner), a killer, gambler, and world-class poet, chews up guys like James faster than the waffles he swallows in a single bite at breakfast. Frustrated with his lot in life and feeling the heat both from the Temple of Mimes and a pain in the a*s arts and crafts dealer (Lana Dietrich), James longs for the life of wild abandon Frank enjoys. Unfortunately for him, there is no justice in this cold, cruel world of ours and while he’s striving desperately to fulfill his destiny, Frank falls into the rather cushy job of being the New Messiah.
This perversely twisted comic romp from the Zellner Brothers is an unrelentingly lurid drive-by through the bad side of comedy-town. The film is full of a colorful bunch of psychotic trailer park rejects and oddballs like Sister Betsy (Tracy Simpson), a pretty member of a Migrant Nun convent, and Ruth (Kerri Lause), Frank’s feral sister who lusts vainly after James and who, Frank rather disturbingly assures us, is, “a fine piece of a*s.”
Loaded with brilliant art design, hysterically demented sight gags, and “Ick! Why did I laugh at that?” dialogue, “Plastic Utopia” is an evil gem waiting to be discovered.

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  1. I’m again repeating the Sisyphean attempt to find one of the DVD copies of Plastic Utopia promised, more than a decade ago, in the trailer and the description on your company’s YT profile, to be “coming soon.” *Sigh* I know I should just copy my VHS to DVD already. But I am on my 3rd (or 4th?) VHS copy and suffer ever-worsening panic attacks whenever I insert this precious tape into one of those ravenous machines, fearing it will surely be devoured and I won’t find another of the ever-dwindling $30-$60 copies, and the remainder of my wretched life will be cloaked in sadness, anger, and regret at having destroyed the possession that, for the past 18 yrs or so, has ceaselessly helped some amount of joy and gaeity to remain pulsing in my otherwise dark and turbid heart.

    Dear Ma’am or Sir, Film Threat is the cruelest tease.

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