Fame Whore (Jon Moritsugu, 1997)

nRoughly three years after bringing us the super-cool mods vs. bikers epic, Mod Fuck Explosion, writer-director Jon Moritsugu returns with Fame Whore, a movie that features three separate stories interwoven to make one sort of succinct motion picture. (Huh?) What a mean is, one of the stories (the one that takes place in New York City) should definitely be called “Fame Whore.” However, the title doesn’t really apply to the other two, which are set in Trenton, Jersey and San Francisco respectively. While that’s an interesting observation, what’s even more interesting is the origin of the term “fame whore.” I always thought the saucy phrase was a product of the reality show boom of the early 2000s. But, as you can clearly see, this film is not from the early 2000s. What I’m trying to say is, did Jon Moritsugu come up with the expression? If so, kudos. The idiom, if you don’t know, is a term used to describe someone who is so desperate to become famous, that they will do just about anything to achieve this goal.

nSure, the title doesn’t really apply to all three stories, which, like I said, are interwoven together. And the origin of the expression “fame whore” is on the cusp of being interesting and/or fascinating. But the reason I’m writing about this film is because of Amy Davis, who stars as Sophie, the world’s most deluded woman.

nRemember how I prattled on obsessively about Amy Davis’s face in my soon to be award winning review of Mod Fuck Explosion? Well, I’m pleased to inform you that not only is Amy Davis’s face still awesome, but her acting has greatly improved as well.

nNow, I don’t mean to imply that she wasn’t a good actress in Mod Fuck Explosion. On the contrary, I found her perpetually confused mug to be rather endearing in that film. It’s just that she’s so brilliantly deadpan in Fame Whore, that I could easily be excused for mistaking her for another actress. But let’s be blunt, shall we? There’s no way I could mistake Amy Davis for another actress. In fact, there’s no way I could mistake Amy Davis for anyone the world over, as she oozes rarefied form of uniqueness.

nDon’t worry, I’ll get to the other stories–you know, the one’s that don’t star Amy Davis–in a minute. It’s just that I need to get my love for Amy Davis out of my system.

nI just remembered what connects the three stories featured in Fame Whore. They all take place on April 15. I know, it’s not much, but it’s something.

nAnyway, after the listening to the film’s bratty theme song (“I’m a fame whore! Can’t you give me more and more.”) we’re introduced to Sophie (Amy Davis) and J (Jason Rail), her long suffering assistant. If you’re wondering what Sophie’s last name is, don’t bother, she doesn’t have one. Her motto is: If Madonna and Cher don’t have last names, why should she? Actually, I’m not entirely sure if that’s her motto or not. But it seems feasible.

nYou could say the reason J is suffering is because he has to listen to Sophie’s grating monotone voice all day long. However, I wouldn’t say that, as I found Sophie’s voice to be quite heavenly. Okay, maybe heavenly is a bit of a stretch. But I did come to love it as the film progressed. It also helped that almost everything that came out of her mouth was pretty freakin’ hilarious.

nOh, would you look at that, I still haven’t mentioned the other stories that make up the Fame Whore family.

nAll right, let’s get this out of the way. The first one takes place in San Francisco and follows the misadventures of Jody George (Peter Friedrich), the #1 ranked tennis player in the world. A huge asshole, Jody spends most of the movie berating his manager (Michael Fitzpatrick), beatboxing, watching porn, speaking in the third person, tipping bellboys autographed tennis balls, giving head to shapely hotel maids, and, oh, yeah, desperately trying to squash rumours that he’s gay.

nHowever, unlike gay athletes today (Michael Sam comes to mind), Jody fears that these rumours will cause him to lose his lucrative sponsorship deals. To illustrate how many sponsorships could potentially be at risk, Jon Moritsugu pans up Jody’s body, stopping every and now then to point out one of his sponsors. Everything from the shoes on his feet to the dandruff shampoo on his head earn Jody truckloads of money.

nThe second story is about George (Victor of Aquitaine), a nervous ninny who works at the Urban Dog Placement Center, a Trenton, New Jersey dog shelter. When he’s not getting crank calls or people calling up complaining the dog they got at his shelter is pissing all over their fancy (museum quality) quilts, George can usually be found in his office chatting with Mr. Peepers, the imaginary giant dog who comes and goes over the course of the day.

nIn-between all the crank calls, complaints and conversions with Mr. Peepers about organic food, George has a nasty encounter with Sabrina Mayflower (Izabela Wojcik), a woman who wants to adopt a dog. This, however, will never happen, as George refuses to deal with someone who wears fur. “Real fur is for real fools,” he tells her, as he kicks her out of his office.

nWhile these two stories are entertaining and, at times, mildly satirical, the real jewel in the Fame Whore crown is hands down Sophie’s saga. And I’m not just saying that because I’m obsessed with Amy Davis. Okay, maybe a little bit. Nevertheless, the Sophie saga has a lot of bite to it, especially when it coming to mocking our celebrity-obsessed culture.

nI’m still having trouble believing this film is from the late 1990s. The only solid evidence I have that this film was shot in the late 1990s comes whenever Jon Moritsuga shows Sophie talking on a cellular telephone. It’s true, the size of the cell phone practically screamed Clueless. But it’s the manner in which the phone is used that caused me to think that this film was actually shot in the late 1990s. You see, back in the ’90s, in order to convey to the audience that a character was a douchebag, the director would simply have them use a cellular telephone, as cell phone usage back then was synonymous with douchiness. This technique is impossible to employ today, as almost everyone uses a cellular telephone… and almost everyone is a douchebag.

nWhew, I’m glad that’s settled. In order to recover from the excessive profundity I just threw in your face, please enjoy a sampling of “Femanatomy by Sophie,” the hottest item from Sophie’s new fashion line, It’s All About Sophie. Model: Turquoise

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nOn top of being a fashion designer, Sophie is also a video artist, a painter, an actress, a photographer, a producer, an art director, an image consultant, a playwright and a performance artist.

nIs she any good at any of these occupations? How the fuck should I know? As Sophie would say, “Having priorities is what separates us from the savages.” Meaning, you gotta keep busy in this hectic go for broke universe. And no one is busier than Sophie. A startling vision of what society would eventually become, the Sophie segment of Fame Whore exams how vanity mixed with insecurity will be the world’s downfall.

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nOh, and I would have loved to have seen the model Sophie says this about at one point: “If she had anymore of an under-bite, we could use her as an ashtray. Sadly, all the models for Sophie’s doomed music video all appear off-screen; one of the many drawbacks to independent film-making.

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