Is it an SNL skit? No, it’s CleanFlix — a documentary that examines cinematic purification, the process of editing out all of the sex, violence, and naughty language from everyone’s favourite films in the name of Mormonism. To me, as a member of the unclean masses, the sheer notion that an uncovered nipple could bring on a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah is laughable, but there are those in Hollywood (i.e. the Directors Guild of America) glowering in the direction of Utah Valley, the epicentre of this “clean” movement, aghast that their works may be compromised with these alterations. The film then traces the legal battle between unbridled artistic expression and the right to choose a cinematic world devoid of all the naughty bits.
CleanFlix works because of the myriad moral, legal, and artistic questions it raises. Unfortunately the film stumbles for the same reason. While certainly presenting a provocative issue with no clear-cut answers, no “heroes” to cheer for, and no succinct conclusion, CleanFlix tries to be too much at once. Ambition is one thing, but in this case, the filmmakers flew a little too close to the sun. Rather than focusing on one clearly-defined issue, the filmmakers threw everything save the kitchen sink into the mix, hoping the audience could sort through the mess. What you’re left with is a spinning head, as you ask yourself, “Which issue was that film trying to present again?”
Does it try to prove all the sex, violence, and coarse language in the films we watch is skewing our collective moral compass? Does it try to define what makes the sex and violence “gratuitous”? Instead of tackling these questions, the filmmakers instead repurpose them as spring boards, choosing to focus on the “star” of the film, Daniel Thompson, a “clean” video store proprietor and ad hoc spokesman for the right to sell these edited films. With Thompson’s introduction, the film changes direction from art to commerce, focusing on the copyright that Thompson is infringing upon, then riddling the rest of the film with the constant legal battles that ensued. The question then becomes, “Are the Mormon people right to break the law for the sake of their morals?” But this issue is breezed over for the sake of Thompson, who, the documentary seems to be saying, is fighting more for his right to sell such product than the issue of altering another’s artistic property or the need for less sex and violence in today’s movies.
I don’t blame the filmmakers for choosing to focus on Thompson, who is really the impetus of this whole affair. CleanFlix casts him as the David to the DGA’s Goliath before cleverly turning the analogy on its head when it’s revealed Thompson may not be the squeaky-clean morality ambassador he was made out to be. But the last part of the film goes on a strange digression, delving more into Thompson’s personal strife than anything to do with editing Hollywood product. It’s as though the “clean” movement was just a cover — an excuse to make a movie about the real, juicy story of Daniel Thompson.
In earnest, that juicy story could fuel an entire film on its own. Thompson is a documentarian’s dream, saddled with the dual role of hero and villain, with more layers than an onion. He is the reason why the film is as entertaining as it is and the reason why, by film’s end, you’ve almost completely forgotten about the Mormons’ plea for “clean” DVDs. The last question: “Was this intentional or an oversight?”
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