The Joy of Eating Dust
Photo by Mike McCoy Sr.To say of a movie that it makes you feel like taking a shower afterward usually isnt taken as a compliment. In the case of Dana Browns Dust to Glory, it should be. When you emerge from the theater after two hours of this documentary about the worlds longest nonstop point-to-point road race, you havent just learned something about the Baja 1000 you feel like youve been there, right down to the crick in your tailbone, the rattle in your jaw and the thick layer of silt that covers your body from head to toe. And its absolutely exhilarating. Directed by Brown, who two years ago made the outstanding surf documentary Step Into Liquid, Dust to Glory was cut down from more than 250 hours of footage shot by a 90-man crew on a variety of film and video formats, from vantage points both earthbound and airborne and the result is a piece of interactive moviemaking that employs no special effects to hurtle us into the action. Pound for pound, its more kinetically thrilling than anything Hollywood has produced in years, not least of all because its real. Brown is the son of pioneering surfer and surf filmmaker Bruce Brown, whose lovingly rendered chronicles of the sport (Barefoot Adventure and The Endless Summer among them) have, for five decades, inspired successive generations of viewers (including this writer) to pick up a board and paddle out. To say that Dana Brown has spent his career following in his fathers (wet) footsteps is not intended as a criticism. (And if you think Dust to Glory, with its dry desert setting, represents an act of filial rebellion, think again: In 1971, Bruce was nominated for an Oscar for his motorcycle documentary On Any Sunday.)Rather, at a moment when American sports culture in general and so-called extreme sports in particular has been subjected to relentless corporatizing and commercialization, Step Into Liquid effused an amateur spirit the value of which can hardly be overestimated. That films indelible appeal rested in the way Brown appraised surfing not as a competition or moneymaking opportunity, but as a common language able to transcend barriers of religion, nationality and age. Whats glorious about Dust to Glory is how, despite the change in milieu, Browns giddy, childlike enthusiasm remains unlike the bones of some of his subjects intact. Its a movie made by a kid who never stopped dreaming of go-carts or looking at televised auto racing and thinking, Cool! Established in 1967, the Baja 1000 is a grueling, daylong trek across that many miles of unpredictable off-road terrain, where the obstacles are both natural (blinding dust clouds and perilous mountain passes) and man-made (the drunken spectators who regularly stumble onto the course). Over the years, the participants have ranged from the famous (Steve McQueen, James Garner, George Plimpton) to the anonymous, from the young (represented in Browns film, which was shot during the 2003 race, by 16-year-old Andy McMillan) to the young-at-heart (like Andys granddad, 74-year-old Corky McMillan). And when they race, they do so in just about everything imaginable this side of a bathtub on wheels, be it motorcycle, unmodified Volkswagen Beetle (humorously classified or perhaps quarantined by race officials as a Class 11 vehicle) or state-of-the-art 800-horsepower dune buggies whose exorbitant cost outpaces the race-winning purse. But as Dust to Glory makes clear early on, the Baja 1000 isnt remotely about money. For some, like veteran motorcyclist Mike Mouse McCoy, who elects to run the race solo, its a gladiatorial combat of man and machine against the elements. For others, like the McMillans and the all-female team composed of racers wives and daughters, its a family tradition passed down from one generation to the next. For all of them, the glory lies not (or not only) in the winning, but in an incomparable sense of freedom generated by miles of open road stretching out toward the horizon like waves at dawn. As in the best sports reportage, Dust to Glory balances the event with the individual, graceful, death-defying triumphs with hammering defeats, flurries of furious racing action with bursts of physical comedy. (Indeed, there may be no more precisely timed gag on movie screens this year than what follows when a wayward Volkswagen collides with a stalled-out truck.) And just as Step Into Liquid evinced the same affection for pro-surfings Malloy brothers as it did for pratfalling longboarders striving against nature (and all good sense) to ride the still waters of Lake Michigan, Dust to Glory is as invested in the competitors striving neck-and-neck for 195th place as it is in the pacesetters. Thats emblematic of the perspective Brown brings to just about everything he turns his camera on be they surfers, riders, or the Peckinpah-worthy eccentrics who dot the Baja countryside. Its the same sweetly naive openness toward the world an optimism, if you will that informed the most memorable passages of Step Into Liquid, like the one in which Vietnam vet Jim Knost bonded with the Vietnamese members of the Da Nang Surfing on his first trip back to Asia since the end of the war. Here you can feel something similar in the scenes where Brown records Baja 1000 racer Malcolm Smith and his son visiting the orphanage they help to support in the nearby town of Valle Trinidad. Or in the affectionate gaze he bestows upon a one-of-a-kind roadside retreat known as Cocos Corner. For all Dust to Glorys visceral charge, what lingers most is its hearty embrace of so many varieties of human experience. It may be the least politically charged film to enter the documentary marketplace in months (or at least since The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill), and yet theres something downright progressive about it. DUST TO GLORY | Written and directed by DANA BROWN | Produced by SCOTT WAUGH and MIKE McCOY | Released by IFC Films | At the Nuart
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