Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Ryan Kruger
Starring: Gary Green, Bianka Hartenstein, Sean Cameron Michael, Chanelle de Jager,
Joey Cramer, Jonathan Pienaar
You know that scene in The Terminator where a naked Arnie
stumbles into the path of Bill Paxton and his punk friends, who mock his
oddness before having their asses kicked? Or the scene in John
Carpenter's
Halloween
where PJ Soles yaps away to a bedsheet clad Michael Myers, believing
it's her boyfriend under the sheet? Or that bit in
Night of the Creeps
where Jill Whitlow has an earnest conversation with her boyfriend, not
realising he's become an unresponsive zombie? Or how about…look, the
point is there are dozens of movies that feature the comic trope of
regular people interacting with a fish out of water weirdo.
Ryan Kruger's patience testing feature debut
Fried Barry takes this idea and stretches it out to 100
minutes that will either have you creased over with laughter (if you're
on the right sort of substances) or rolling your eyes in disdain
throughout.
The titular Barry (Gary Green, who looks like Paul Bettany on
Meth – Paul Methany?) is a South African heroin addict who spends his
days zonked out while neglecting his wife (Chanelle de Jager) and
child. One evening while walking home after an afternoon spent chasing
the dragon, Barry is abducted by aliens, who probe his privates in the
most uncomfortable manner, taking over his body and returning to the
streets to explore our planet through Barry's eyes.
As outlined above, what follows is a very 1980s fish out of water tale,
one very much aimed at a stoner audience. Kruger seems to have set out
to ruffle feathers with a line of humour that comes off as decidedly
dated, with a few representations that could be described as borderline
homophobic.
Remember the controversial Jonas Åkerlund directed promo for The
Prodigy's 'Smack My Bitch Up'? Well that feels like the primary
inspiration for Kruger's film, with Barry traversing his way through a
city, having sex (somehow women find him irresistible), getting into
fights and occasionally healing people like Jeff Bridges in
Starman. It's all stuff you've seen countless times before, especially if you
were around in the '80s, the decade Fried Barry is very
much a throwback to.
Fried Barry plays its nostalgic hand from the off,
opening with a spoof of those age restriction warnings that came on VHS
rentals, where some square would warn you about the content you were
about to watch. There's even an intermission halfway through that
prompts viewers to visit the lobby for snacks and soda. Perhaps a decade
ago such touches might have seemed novel, but the whole '80s nostalgia
kick has grown tiresome by this point.
Kruger's feature debut is an expansion of a three minute short he made
back in 2017, but by expanding it he's stretched it to breaking point.
20 minutes in and you've pretty much seen all it has to offer. Kruger
certainly has a distinctive in-your-face style, which may win him some
fans of an edgelord nature, but if you're looking for originality in
narrative terms, well, forget about it. Kruger's film is probably best
enjoyed if your brain is as fried as its protagonist.
