Police State

While I have certainly met cops that were insufferable dickheads and megalomaniacal control-freaks, I find few things more innately impotent and pathetic than people that have a pathological hatred of police officers, especially when these morons sprinkle their irrational hatred with pseudo-moralistic self-righteousness while being degenerates themselves who almost seem jealous of the largely imagined power and control that they believe the men in blue have, not to mention the fact that these people are usually candy ass pussies who lack both the testicular fortitude and self-discipline that it takes to be a cop, especially in some urban multicultural sewer like NYC. As demonstrated by the recent collective hysteria of the mainstream media and the useful idiots that are always more than willing to believe every absurd specially tailored lie that is spoon-fed to them by said media as a result of a handful of negro thugs that were killed after making a series of superlatively stupid choices when dealing with the police, cops have become a sort of easy and highly trendy scapegoat for rampant ‘urban’ criminality and a drastically declining nation that is on the verge of becoming a third world anarcho-tyranny of the racially chaotic sort.  Indeed, only in America can a seemingly half-retarded black thug who sold drugs to his own people and lived a completely parasitic existence become a sort of saint because he died under dubious circumstances upon being taken into custody by a multicultural black-white group of cops, but I digress. Aside from rappers, the most moronic and anti-intellectual cop hatred probably comes from the various outmoded punk movements that sprung up over the decades, so naturally it should be no surprise that para-punk trash filmmaker Nick Zedd (Geek Maggot Bingo or The Freak from Suckweasel Mountain, Totem of the Depraved)—a man that depicted a dystopian world where a group of braindead punk rock fans cause a nuclear meltdown and turn NYC into a punk rock (or “Death Rock” as it is labeled in the film) dictatorship via his debut feature They Eat Scum (1979)—would ultimately sire what is perhaps the most silly and senseless anti-cop film ever made. 

 Indeed, Zedd’s 18-minute black-and-white short Police State (1987) is a fiercely philistinic anti-police piece that attempts to be ten times as hardcore as Cool Hand Luke (1967) yet ultimately feels like the Cinema of Transgression’s answer to Police Academy (1984), with the rambling auteur portraying arguably the most unsympathetic ‘victim’ of police brutality in cinema history as an arrogant posturing punk who ultimately gets castrated after unwisely running his mouth to every corrupt cop that he encounters at a police station upon getting arrested for mocking a fat ass polack pig.  Of course, as someone that would much rather see Zedd being beaten to a bloody pulp by a gang of corrupt cops than any of his actual films, the short acts as the next best thing, not to mention the fact that it features the ‘subversive’ left-wing trash auteur uttering the word “nigger” against a negro cop despite being an ostensibly ‘anti-racist’ film that pays tribute to chocolate police brutality victim Michael Stewart. While there is certainly more potent and visceral anti-cop hatred in Raymond Pettibon’s “Police Story” artwork for his brother’s punk/hardcore band Black Flag than Zedd’s film in its entirety, Police State benefits from being a fairly humorous, if not oftentimes unintentionally so, black comedy that begs to be taken seriously (as Zedd once stated of his film, he hoped it would “show people what cops are really like”). What the film really shows people is the sort of senseless passive-aggressive behavior that might lead someone to get their ass kicked by a pissed off cop who has had a bad day and hardly wants to deal with the rude and belligerent behavior of a smartass little twit who thinks being uncooperative with an officer of the law is some sort of serious political statement. 

 Partly inspired by the Operation Pressure Point gentrifying program that took place in Alphabet City in 1986, the film’s genesis was described by Zedd as follows in the doc Blank City (2010) directed by Celine Danhier, “In order to, supposedly, clear the neighborhood of drug dealers and other unwanted elements, the mayor of New York instituted the policy to make it more desirable for upscale members of the community to move in. The government sent in police officers and subjected us to harassment. I decided to satirize their behavior in the movie POLICE STATE.” Not just one of the many schlocky celluloid examples that proves Zedd suffers from Persönlichkeitsentwicklungsstörung, the film also demonstrates that the garbage auteur is a proud masochist with a pathetic victim mentality, which is arguably the most entertaining thing about him and his films as Police State readily demonstrates.  Among other things, the film is also notable for being a rare example where Zedd actually attempted to make a movie with something resembling a cohesive narrative that features a discernible beginning, middle, and ending that even concludes with a fun twist of sorts. Of course, there is not one single second of the film where Zedd does not seem like a posturing, overly self-conscious, and insufferable twat who wallows in negative attention and certainly deserves the beating he gets from a couple corrupt cops who cannot tolerate being around some smug young bum who is even more arrogant and self-righteous than they are.   As Police State unwittingly reveals, cops and criminals are oftentimes two sides of the same coin.

 After an opening title sequence where some degenerate (apparently, Zedd himself) spraypaints “State” under a “Police” decal on a squad car, Nick Zedd is harassed by a stereotypical big dumb stupid polack policeman named Sergeant Wojynski (Willoughby Sharp of Zedd’s Whoregasm (1988) and I Was a Quality of Life Violation (2004)) when he dubiously walks down a ghetto alley for seemingly no reason at all.  Not surprisingly considering the goofy way the punk speaks and walks, the cop thinks Zedd is a junky and demands to see his arms, so the protagonist shows his arms and says to Wojynski after revealing he has no track marks in a smartass fashion, “See. I’m not a liar…you are.” When the cop asks to see his ID, Zedd stupidly replies in a fashion that makes him sound like a 13-year-old girl who has just discovered the Sex Pistols, “I don’t got any ID, but if I did, it would be fake.” Of course, when the cop asks Zedd his name, he lies and says his name is “Frank Serpico.”  Zedd also gives the fake names “Michael Stewart” and “Fred Flintstone,” so the cop asks him in all sincerity if he is a “fucking faggot.” When Zedd foolishly calls Wojynski a “Motherfucker,” Wojynski hilariously knocks him on his ass and angrily states to him, "Look up here! You wanna fuck with me? I’ll fuck with you. You hear me, asshole? Now, where do you live?,” to which the protagonist pathetically replies in a fashion that makes him sound like one of the eponymous teens from Beavis and Butt-Head, “86 Fuck You Street.” At this point, Wojynski informs Zedd, “Ok, you got yourself a trip to the station, smart ass,” and proceeds to brutally beat up the protagonist to let him know who's boss.  Since Zedd proceeds to egg on the violent cop despite the brutal beating he has taken from him as a result of running his big mouth, one can only assume that he is a masochist who rather enjoys getting stomped on by a boorish polack pig like a disgarded cigarette butt.  When a young negress asks Wojynski, “What are you hitting him for?,” the cop calls her a “stupid nigger” and threatens to take her back to the station while she describes him as a “fucking pig” under her breath.  As Zedd will soon discover, black cops can be even more corrupt than their white comrades

 When Sgt. Wojynski takes Zedd back to the station, he gives his superior, a nameless bald negro Lieutenant (Flip Crowley), a police report stating that the protagonist has been arrested for, “assaulting police officer, suspicious conduct, creating a disturbance, inciting a riot, resisting arrest, malicious mischievous, and being a faggot.” Wojynski also falsely accuses Zedd of being a racist and calling someone a “nigger,” which offends the spade to the point where he asks his stupid Slavic underling, “You enjoy saying that word, don’t you?” and “Tell me, did he call you a dumb polack?” When Wojynski eventually convinces the Lieutenant that Zedd supposedly called someone a nigger, the Uncle Tom cop becomes exceedingly enraged, screams in the face of the protagonist, “Alright, you slimy little motherfucker…You’re gonna wish you had never been born,” and beats him to a bloody pulp. Although the negro lieutenant forces Zedd to sit in a chair, a morbidly obese toothless guido detective (played by junky degenerate Rockets Redglare of Jim Jarmusch’s Stranger Than Paradise (1984) and Down by Law (1986)) soon walks into the holding room and demands that he get on a table. When the detective says to Zedd, “You’re a faggot, you know that?,” the protagonist retardedly retorts like a bullied toddler, “takes one to know one, fat boy,” thus resulting in him getting his ass beat by a somewhat effete lard ass thug with a disgustingly nasally NYC accent. Ultimately, the detective puts a cigarette in Zedd’s ear after pretending to be nice to him to by giving a quick drag of said cig.  Unfortunately for Mr. Zedd, the detective is just too smart and sadistic for him.

 After the detective leaves, the goofy jigaboo lieutenant comes back and yells at Zedd, “Get down off that table, faggot!” and then once again forces the pathetic punk back into the chair.  Of course, when the debauched detective returns, he demands that Zedd get back on the table and screams, “Tell me where that dope is or you’re one dead little girl.” Naturally, Zedd refuses to comply since he does not have any dope, so the detective informs him, “you had your chance and blew it” and once again leaves. When the negro lieutenant comes back and yells at Zedd for standing on the table again, Zedd gets the gall to sarcastically ask the unintentionally silly shinebone cop, “Why do they call you nigger?,” which does not sit too well with the racially sensitive black pig. Indeed, instead of forcing Zedd to sit in the chair like before, the lieutenant breaks it over his head. Determined to beat Zedd’s ass during a ‘fair’ fight, the lieutenant even takes the young punk’s handcuffs off and begs him to hit him, but the pussy protagonist decides to do nothing aside from spitting in the colored cop’s face (certainly, one must give credit to Zedd for daring to spit in a spade's face in a film). When the detective comes back, he brings a revolver with him and informs Zedd that by the end of their meeting, he will get the protagonist to blow his own brains out with the weapon. Somewhat curiously, the detective also demands that Zedd pull down his pants and expose his genitals (thankfully, Zedd does not show hismmm. Under the serious threat of castration, Zedd still refuses to tell where the drugs are and has his cock chopped off as a result. While the detective hands him the gun in the hope that he will blow his brains out as a result of being a man that no longer has his manhood, Zedd ultimately uses the weapon on the cop by shooting him in the head and then subsequently manages to escape, or so the viewer assumes. In the end, the film closes with a shot of a “missing” flyer with a pic of Zedd and an advertisement of a cash award of $50,000 for anyone that manages to locate him. As for Zedd, he is now both literally and figuratively ball-less as opposed to just the latter. 

 Undoubtedly, the ‘brilliance’ of Police State lies in its seeming ‘realism.’ Indeed, I can certainly imagine some fat stupid polack or negro cop calling Zed a “fag” or “faggot” and treating him like the obnoxious narcissistic little cunt that he is. Not surprisingly, Zedd has bragged about spray painting not one but two cop cars for his film (apparently, his cinematographer botched filming him vandalizing a patrol car the first time he did it, so they had to do it again), or as he stated in an interview in Deathtripping: The Extreme Underground (2008) by Jack Sargeant while sounding like some over-the-hill Dennis the Menace wannabe, “So there are two cop cars driving around with ‘Police State’ on the back. That was good advertising for the film. I felt good doing it, it was like the feeling you get when you shoplift an expensive department store and you’re not sure if you’re gonna get caught or not.” Notably, South African auteur Aryan Kaganof would later sample the graffiti scene for his experimental documentary Night Is Coming: Threnody for the Victims of Marikana (2014), which could not be any more different from Zedd’s film, even if it does have an overt anti-cop message. It seems the film has an extra close place in Zedd’s heart, as he cites it as inspiring him to not to off himself by putting a bullet in his brain, or as he stated in his Deathtripping interview, “When I did POLICE STATE I thought I’d get it done in six months and instead it took me two years. For two years it was really bothering me, because I felt this need for it to come out, but in a way it was good because it kept me from killing myself. I mean, I was so depressed during that time that if I hadn’t shot POLICE STATE I might have killed myself. I wanted to do something great before I died. I wanted to finish it and have it out to prove I could do a film like that, so it kept me alive – the same thing now with this novel I’m writing – it keeps me from giving up, knowing I have something to complete.”  Indeed, for better or worse, it certainly seems that Zedd literally lives to make films, even if they are not exactly good or thoughtful ones.

 If we can believe him, according to Zedd, Police State is banned in degenerate liberalized Aryan countries like Sweden where hardcore porn has been perfectly legal for many decades (I guess those culturally cuckolded Swedes cannot bear to watch a film where the classic colloquial racial slur “nigger” is used multiple times). As Zedd bragged in Deathtripping regarding the film’s infamy, “It makes people uncomfortable, especially in Germany for some reason. [laughs] I think the cops didn’t like it too much in Sweden – the police raided the apartment I was living in and took me to the station with all the movies and they told me I might be facing four years in prison.” While I find Zedd’s story to be a tad bit dubious, I certainly do not doubt his resentful hatred towards cops, so it should be no surprise that he followed in the same slave-morality oriented path as Spike Lee in Do the Right Thing (1989) by paying tribute to ghetto negro martyr Michael Stewart. Admittedly, I have to give Zedd credit for saying of Lee, “Spike Lee I think is a pint-sized racist […] He’s really lucky to get so much money to make bigoted films. He can get away with it because he’s black.”  Additionally, Police State demonstrates that Zedd has a better knack for cinematic comedy than Lee who, despite his incessant crying about Hollywood using racial stereotypes, has directed a number of films that feel like neo-minstrel shows, not to mention his incessant utilization of flagrant anti-guido sentiments as reflected in his various wopsploitation flicks like Jungle Fever (1991) and especially Summer of Sam (1999) despite the fact that he has largely stolen his aesthetic from proud Sicilian-American filmmaker Martin Scorsese.  Indeed, an example of comedic genius in Police State is the casting of demented junky/dope-dealer turned actor/comedian Rockets Redglare–a morbidly obese guido slob who was born addicted to heroin (his mother was a junky and his father was a small-time mafia career criminal) and who some believe was Sid Vicious' Jewess girlfriend Nancy Spungen's real killer (Redglare was the infamous punk rock couple's drug dealer)–in the role of a savagely sadistic police detective who gets a thrill out of castrating young punks.  Of course, any film featuring polack jokes also cannot be all that bad.  Naturally, the real weakness of Police State is Zedd's prosaic would-be-sassy anti-cop sentiment, which is about as subtle and sophisticated as a coat-hanger abortion, but such juvenile antics are certainly to be expected from the little mensch that brought the world such intolerably kitschy trash anti-classics as Tom Thumb in the Land of the Giants (1999) and Lord of the Cockrings (2001).  For all Zedd’s anti-police hatred, I find it particularly strange that he would relocate to Mexico City, which is famous for its conspicuously corrupt Mestizo cops, but I guess he hopes to be a big fish in a very small and dirty garbage-covered pond. 

-Ty E