I love a gal in uniform

>> Bang's homeless heroine becomes a cop for a day

by MATTHEW HAYS

A young woman is evicted from her apartment by a cranky landlord who scolds her for being four months late with the rent. Placing a padlock on the door, he informs her that he's going to sell all her stuff in a stab at making up her debt. She then zips off to a "promising audition" with a cocaine-snorting director who clearly has no intention of casting her, just bedding her. Distraught after almost getting raped by the Hollywood type, she flees his home, still stinging from the list of racial epithets he hurled her way (she's Japanese-American). Then a cop shows up, drags her into the forest and orders her to give him a blowjob or else she'll spend the night in jail.

Why, it's an average day in L.A.! It's also the set-up for Bang, the latest indie sensation directed by a first-timer billed only as "Ash." After managing to turn the tables on the evil cop, Bang's protagonist (played with spirit by Darling Narita), who remains nameless throughout the movie, robs him of his uniform, which she then dons. The rest of the film has her wandering L.A. on his motorbike, dressed as a cop.

The concept is clear: how does someone so disempowered and marginalized--an out-of-work, down-on-her-luck member of a minority--deal with the sudden rush of being an all-powerful, feared cop? But Bang's contrivances are forgivable, in light of Narita's intelligent performance, and a script that consistently surprises and never stoops to cliché.

Bang's episodic structure has our heroine in a series of situations, some comic, some tragic. She sits down for a greasy breakfast, only to find herself keeping company with two real L.A. cops who don't suspect for a moment that she's an impostor. When her motorcycle runs out of gas, she asks two rather rough looking Latinos to drive her to the nearest gas station. She's soon enjoying a beer and toking up with them.

Shot entirely on the cheap with unknown actors (with the exception of Peter Greene, who also appeared in Pulp Fiction), Bang employs all the hallmarks of Italian neo-realism. Cinematographer Dave Gasperik's use of hand-held camera ensures that, despite the age-old use of the device, we're convinced we're watching something raw and real. Like a reversal of The Bicycle Thief, this time the marginal type has gained the power, rather than lost it, and the results are intriguing.

When Bang first appeared at the Los Angeles Film Festival as The Big Bang Theory, rumours flourished that Ash was merely a pseudonym for a famous actor who wanted to direct under an anonymous guise. But Ash is in fact a British immigrant who was inspired to make the film by the impression that the bizarre and absurd culture of L.A. had on him. Apparently, Ash worked for a time as a stripping telegram man, and the most frequent costume request involved him dressing up as a cop. He was deeply affected by the way in which attitudes changed when people thought he was indeed a police officer. This coupled with his amazement at the poor treatment the homeless suffered in L.A. added up to a feature-length inspiration. With Bang, Ash manages to point up the insanity of L.A. in a way that perhaps only an outsider could.

Like the landmark girls-with-guns movies before them, including Ms. 45, Thelma & Louise and A Gun for Jennifer, what a woman finds when she actually gains power through a firearm isn't necessarily what she bargained for. Bang never glorifies guns or violence, but rather shows them for what they are.

What a relief, to see a film like this: imperfect, for sure, but never predictable, unlike virtually everything else that's filled screens so far this spring and summer. Bang is bang on.

Bang opens this Friday, May 29, at the Cinéma du Parc. See repertory listings for showtimes