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It’s the second of these which Pump Up the Volume assails head on. Let’s assume for a moment that the film’s oft-repeated sentiment that the world is a stagnating cesspool is true. The question, of course, becomes what do we do about it? The film’s answer–frenetic action in whatever direction, as long as it screws things up–is dangerous if, for no other reason, than the fact that no matter how much the cesspool stinks, it can always get a hell of a lot worse and the road there is paved with wrong, unthoughtful action.
Of course, in pleading its case, the film doesn’t fight fairly. The school is run by a couple of bumbling fascists, one of whom looks like Vince Lombardi’s evil and stupid twin. Christian Slater’s parents remind one of Emilio Estevez’s brain-dead parents in Repo Man. Even more despicable is the film’s cheap attempt at political correctness by coyly hinting at a plot by the school’s administrators to rid the school of black and hispanic students who are faring poorly on standardized tests.
David Vlcek
