Thunderpants – (2002)

Directed by Peter Hewitt

Written by Peter Hewitt and Phil Hughes

Starring Bruce Cook as Patrick, Rupert Grint as Alan, Simon Callow as Sir John Osgood, Paul Giamatti as Johnson J. Johnson, Ned Beatty as General Sheppard, and Stephen Fry as Sir Anthony Silk.

I know, I’m a week behind. In my defense, I was on a college choir tour and I didn’t have time to watch a movie, let alone write about one. Then, like a gift from God himself, I find a true gem the very day I get back. Some friends and I were planning on watching David Lynch’s Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (coming soon to this here blog) but due to unforeseen circumstances we instead experienced this piece of cinema history. A movie so remarkable and groundbreaking that it deserves its place in the annals of not only film history, but history itself. I’m, of course, talking about the 2002 masterpiece that is Thunderpants.

Thunderpants tells the story of Patrick Smash (played by the then-and-still-unknown Bruce Cook), a young British lad seemingly cursed with chronic, superhuman flatulence. This kid farts, a lot. So much so that his father leaves the family and his mother turns to alcoholism. (You know, for kids!) Patrick is ostracized at school by classmate and teacher alike, except for his best friend, Alan, a child genius with no sense of smell. Alan is played by a fresh-off-the-set-of-the-first-Harry-Potter Rupert Grint, but with curly hair and glasses. Together, Alan and Patrick seek a practical use for Patrick’s unique problem. Alan develops a flying machine powered by Patrick’s gas, drawing the attention of an opera singer (Simon Callow), who recruits Patrick to fart a specific high note that he can’t quite reach, and the US Special Forces, who need Alan’s genius intellect to help rescue some astronauts in trouble.

Separated from Alan, Patrick joins the opera singer on a concert tour of Europe, secretly farting a high note that impresses the Opera SInger’s audiences. It isn’t until the Opera Singer’s rival catches on to the secret that things take a turn for worse. A stage accident kills the Opera Singer’s rival, and the blame is placed squarely on our gaseous hero. Patrick is put on trial, and eventually gets the death penalty. (You know, for kids!) Mere seconds before he’s dispatched by a firing squad, the US Special Forces swoops in to save him, led by Agent Johnson, played by a severely miscast, early-career Paul Giamatti. Turns out, Alan’s plan for rescuing the astronauts is directly contingent on Patrick’s gifts. That’s right boys and girls, Patrick’s farts power the rescue rocket. Reunited with his best friend, and given a purpose, Patrick pilots/fuels the rocket, rescuing the astronauts while living his dream of being one.

This is a real movie. Money was paid to tell this story. Very little money was paid by people wanting to see it. Thunderpants is a weird paradox. On one hand, it’s a kind of charming, somewhat unique approach. The production design is similar to that of Pushing Daisies or Penelope. It seems like a fairytale, and thus fairytale rules apply. The universe of the movie kind of works, aside from the weird death penalty plot turn. On the other hand, this movie seems like a blatant play at the early 2000’s whimsical toilet-humor family comedy. It’s trying so hard to be something like Spy Kids or Master of Disguise something else of that ilk to really stand on its own. It’s just another one of that kind of movie that just didn’t make it, albeit with a more ridiculous premise.

There’s not much to say about any of the creative or technical aspects here. The writing is unpredictable, albeit incredibly cheesy. Most of the performances are obnoxiously over the top, especially Rupert Grint’s. He puts on a nerdy-because-I-know-big-words affectation, coupled with an accent that isn’t quite British but is indistinguishable from anything else.   Everything, and I mean everything, in this movie is green. The sets are green. The food is green. The costumes are green. It’s the laziest way of setting your movie in a world not exactly like our own. None of the jokes are quite as funny as just the random sequence of events you could generously call plot. If I were making a video laying out the funniest parts, I’d have a lot more to show you.

All that said, I can’t say that I don’t recommend it. It isn’t a so-bad-it’s-good movie like The Room, but it isn’t as obnoxiously unwatchable as Master of Disguise. If anything, it’s a fun movie to riff on, MST3K-style. Furthermore, it’d make an excellent double feature with the 1997 Harlan Williams comedy Rocketman.  More reviews coming, I promise I’ll catch up.