The Cream of the Crap: ‘Hobo With A Shotgun’

Way back when, Rage Against the Machine guitar wizard Tom Morello famously emblazoned his guitar with the phrase “Arm the Homeless.” Editor/director Jason Eisener takes this radical call to action literally with Hobo with a Shotgun, his 2011 throwback to the grindhouse flicks of the ‘70s. Featuring a leathery Rutger Hauer as titular anti-hero, Eisener sets Hobo in a nightmarish (and apparently Canadian) dead-end town where crime runs rampant, the cops are on the take, and no citizen is safe. With scene-chewing performances, gallows-humor dialogue and a garish/porno-chic inspired set design, Hobo is a shallow, nihilistic throwback to the cinematic days of Charles Bronson when you could only find legal redress through the barrel of a gun.

Traveling by boxcar in stereotypical fashion, the film’s wayfaring stranger decamps at “Hope Town,” its welcome sign graffitied to read “Scum Town.” Ruled by crime lord The Drake and his sadistic sons Ivan and Slick, the city is awash in drugs, prostitution and all manner of depravity. Those who dare cross this twisted trio must endure a variety of horrors, including a battering by a razor covered baseball bat, a full body massage with sharpened hockey skates and–worst of all– a trip to the glory hole, a most grisly death involving a manhole cover, barbed wire and motorbikes traveling in opposite directions.

Our nameless hero drifts around the periphery of all this terror, scraping together whatever cash he can through begging and performing geek-like stunts for a “bum fights” impresario in an effort to purchase a lawnmower at a nearby pawn shop. Though we learn little about his backstory, the hobo reveals that he yearns to open up a lawn care business away from the crime and filth of the city where he can find a modicum of peace.

One evening, while rooting around the refuse outside of one of the Drake’s houses of ill repute, the hobo sees an altercation between Ivan and Abby, one of the prostitutes in the baddy’s employ. He uncharacteristically intercedes, rescuing Abby from Ivan’s clutches. He then tries to enlist the help of the cops to bring the villain to justice. Unsurprisingly, the authorities are in the pocket of the bad guys and, for his lack of vision, the hobo is beaten within an inch of his life and carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Nursed back to health by Abby, the hobo again sets his sights on the lawnmower of his dreams. Fate, it seems, has other plans as just when the mower is in his grasp, a pack of the Drake’s heavily armed brigands attack the pawn shop. Driven to the brink of madness, the hobo snatches a fully loaded 12 gauge shotgun off a rack and soon he’s blowing away the robbers, a colorful assortment of pimps, a pedophile santa, a platoon of dirty cops and thugs of all stripes. Though celebrated by the innocents of Hope Town–Parents smile as bodies pile!” and “Hobo stops begging. Demands. Change!” are a few of the more pithy headlines in the local papers–this puts him on a collision course with the Drake, his boys and his duo of hired demonic killers christened “The Plague.”

Gory revenge films of this ilk generally aren’t my bag, but the slavish attention to detail that the art department, costumers and scene designers employed won me over. They really do manage to make an otherwise charming Canadian town look like quite a shithole (bravo!). And the winking, swing-for-the-fences performances and off-color dialogue–“I’m gonna wash this blood off… with your blood!”–impress in both their delivery and sheer volume.

Meanwhile, the grizzled, gravel voiced Hauer, with his tongue firmly planted in his cheek, is clearly enjoying himself in the lead role. It may puzzle some why an internationally renowned actor of his caliber would take on such a low-rent project. But his IMDB page reminds us Hauer was a genre actor throughout his career, ably playing edgy roles in The Hitcher, Sin City, Dracula 3D and similar fare. What’s not really explicable is that the hobo never seems to run out of ammo despite killing an army’s worth of the Drake’s scumbags.

So, if you’re one of those kindred spirits who digs buckets of blood and ranks Death Wish on the top of your “best of” bracket, this movie is clearly for you. For the rest of us, Hobo with a Shotgun may be the violent catharsis we need right now.