The term ‘cult
film’ was coined for movies such as Motivational
Growth, which defies classification or even explanation. It is original,
bizarre, and occasionally overcomes the shortcomings of the amateur actors with
a distinct visual style and directorial flare. Having watched the entire thing,
I’m still not certain I have a grasp on everything that the filmmaker was
trying to do, but even the failures of the film had enough creativity to keep
me engaged enough to follow it to the end. Aspects of the storyline lull into
predictable themes, but a series of disjointed sequences destroy this
consistency in a way that makes the film weaker while simultaneously retaining
viewers with its spontaneity.
The deceptively
simplistic storyline of Motivational
Growth involves a depressed and reclusive 30-something slob named Ian
Folivor (Adrian DiGiovanni), a man whose deepest relationship is shared with
his vintage television. When this television blows out on him, Ian can no
longer find a reason to continue existing, and makes an attempt on his own
life. Whether this suicide attempt is successful or not is certainly debatable,
because Ian awakes to find reality has shifted away from normalcy. The first clue
to this shift comes in the form of a talking pile of mold in the corner of
Ian’s bathroom.
This talking bit
of filth known only as The Mold (voiced by Jeffrey Combs of Re-Animator fame)
begins to guide Ian on his life decisions, which initially seems to help him
break out of the rut that led to a suicide attempt. This involves simple tasks
such as cleaning his apartment and ceasing his reliance on television, but the
intentions of The Mold become questionable when he urges Ian towards violence.
This is also where the film becomes simultaneously unexpected and unclear of
any thematic messages.
Although
predictable in its narrative, there is something slightly satisfying about
watching Ian get his life together. We begin with a depressed slob whose only
relationships are with those unfortunate enough to have a reason to knock on
his door, but the natural progression of the story allows for Ian to improve
his social skills to the point of beginning a friendship with the girl in the
apartment next to him. This is also where the film begins to lack any
believability, because Leah (Danielle Doetsch) is the one who takes steps to
find out more about Ian after catching him spying on her through the peephole
in his door.
If it weren’t
difficult enough to believe that an attractive young woman would seek out a
relationship with the reclusive slob that has been spying on her, all reason to
suspend disbelief is annihilated by the amateur performance from Doetsch. The
acting is fairly poor all around, but this amateur performance feels disjointed
from every other element of the movie in a way that is somehow more contrived
than a pile of talking mold. None of the actors are particularly convincing,
though this is clearly not the focus of storytelling for writer/director Don
Thacker. Then again, I was still unclear of what exactly was the point of
Thacker’s film, even having reached the ending. If the intention was to make a
strange film, Thacker has achieved his goal; I’m just not convinced that it is
a very good movie beyond the appeal of its quirkiness.
The DVD special
features include a commentary track with actors Jeffrey Combs and Adrian
DiGiovanni, along with Thacker. There is also a photo gallery and a trailer for
the film. The one missed opportunity is the extras is some type of a featurette
showing how the film’s visual effects were accomplished, especially since this
is far more of an asset than the screenplay or any of the performances.
Entertainment Value:
3.5/10
Quality of
Filmmaking: 4/10
Historical
Significance: 1/10
Special Features: 5/10
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