One millionth of one percent of NY and LA see ‘Gentlemen Broncos’ – Fox cancels its release

Star Michael Angarano

Already having a bad year, Fox Searchlight has just announced that they’ve changed their minds about the release strategy for the latest Jared and Jerusha Hess film, Gentlemen Broncos.

For the very few people who have actually seen the movie, this will come as no surprise. With a modest budget of $10 million, the film brought in only about fifteen thousand dollars in its first week of limited (NY and LA) release. If you break that down, a kitty of fifteen grand means that just over a thousand people went to the movie in its opening (most important) week. With a combined population of about 12 million peeps in the two metropolitan areas where Broncos is currently showing, that means about 0.0001 percent, or one-millionth of one percent of the population has seen it.

Some of 'Gentlemen Broncos' silliness.

About a month ago I sat down for Nylon (for their current issue, out today) to interview star Michael Angarano at Live Bait on 23rd street in Manhattan, just a stone’s throw from Shake Shack. Which was a pity, because the burger he’d ordered, which sat mostly uneaten on his plate, looked like something your grandma would make in the cast iron skillet she couldn’t lift off the stove anymore. Whereas the Shake Shack’s burger? Heaven on a bun. 45 minutes in line is actually worth it. The first thing Angarano said to me when I sat down was, “Jared’s aware that he made a very indulgent movie, and he doesn’t care. The script was just really great. It was just a classic story. You have a main character, a virtuous little guy, who just gets put through the mill.”

That’s certainly true. And indulgent is the best word Angarano could have chosen. Throw in a little “self” before it and we’re getting even closer. In the movie, Angarano kisses a girl immediately after barfing, and Hess lingers like an eight year old on the sticky chunks between their chins. Angarano is also shat upon by a huge snake, and is forced into one ridiculously awful outfit after another (“Haband brand,” he tells me. “Old lady clothes.”). He also, for no good reason really, takes up the art of blowing poisonous darts, or rather “poisonous,” since what they’re dipped into are piles of steamy poo. Costar Mike White has something to do with it and he’s wasted. “Wasted” in its root word sense. As is Sam Rockwell, who even plays two roles. Angarano too is wasted. He’s a good young actor who was given the impossible task of carrying this turgid turd, and he gives it his best shot. His knees buckle. He’s the straight man in a funhouse mirror, surrounded by monkeys who won’t stop shrieking and grabbing their business.

The only actor who is not wasted is Jemaine Clement, half of Flight of the Concords. He’s brilliant. But it’s not enough.

I’m not necessarily against a little bathroom humor. I enjoyed Mr. Hanky, the Christmas Poo as much as the next guy. I’m down with the Apatowian Fecal Club, more or less, though I’d rather not learn their secret handshake. I’m pretty sure it involves a reach around. But some of the attempts at humor in Broncos, and I do mean attempts, seem to be aimed at a certain subgroup of society, a definite fringe element. I’m talking about you, lovers of the sheisa porn. I enjoy a successful B.M. just like the next mammal. Usually I’m alone for it. That’s just my thing. That’s the way I roll. Personally, I’m getting a little sick of this shit.