Last week, the New York Times published an expansive and affectionate interview with Jason “Wee Man” Acuña, a 48-year-old skateboarder and celebrity who cut his teeth (and likely some other body parts) as a member of MTV’s notorious Jackass crew. It was the latest in a line of publicity ahead of the release of Jackass Forever, the fourth instalment in a film franchise that began in October 2002, when Jackass: The Movie cannonballed into cinemas. Last year, de facto leader Johnny Knoxville was on the cover of GQ and in an article for Vogue, culture writer Emma Specter reflected on the friendships at the heart of the show. With every new instalment, the Rotten Tomatoes score has increased; as reviews flooded in for Jackass Forever, critics were overwhelmingly positive. It is a generally accepted truth, as of 2022, that Jackass is good.
It’s a far cry from the outrage that the boys generated at the height of their fame; from the moment the television show first aired on 1 October 2000, notoriety and controversy have not been far behind. The stunts and pranks that Knoxville, Steve-O, Bam Margera and co executed caught the imagination of hapless teens and young adults, who – despite the show’s myriad warning screens – sought to emulate their idols by undertaking outlandish (and often dangerous) skits of their own. Injuries, lawsuits and a letter to MTV’s parent company from a concerned state senator followed. The New York Times, back in 2002, seemed generally bemused by Johnny Knoxville.
But I’ve always been a true believer. During a miserable coming-of-age, which was plagued by physical and mental illness, Jackass never failed to make me smile, no matter how many times I watched the same stunts. We spend our lives being told to do everything we can to avoid putting ourselves in harm’s way; the wilful defiance of daredevils has entertained the masses for centuries (before Jackass, there was Buster Keaton, before Keaton, there was Harry Houdini) purely because it feels antithetical to how we’re supposed to live.
The appeal of Jackass is simple: some things are inherently funny, no matter how juvenile (James Joyce was fascinated by farting, after all.) And it’s not all poo jokes and pratfalls; the artistry that goes into the skits and stunts is very much present in the franchise’s latest outing. The films are known for their bombastic opening sequences and Jackass Forever doesn’t disappoint; while impressive slow-motion camera work and a truly staggering number of camera angles bring stunts to life, the film’s surreal opening – featuring Chris Pontius’s penis painted green and dressed up as a giant dinosaur, terrorising a small city which his co-stars inhabit – lays the groundwork for a raucous 96 minutes.
Naturally, there are callbacks to earlier fan favourite bits, including Knoxville’s Bad Grandpa Irving Zisman and the “Bungee Wedgie”, but the stand-out sketch, “Silence of the Lambs”, involving night-vision goggles, a pitch-black room, rubber snakes and Tasers, reminds us – in an age of lacklustre YouTube pranksters – just how skilled the crew really are. Jackass takes a wicked imagination, exquisite planning and a willingness to put one’s body on the line, all in the name of entertaining audiences.
There’s also something particularly poignant about this reunion in our present moment. After an extended societal isolation period, where so many of us have seen relationships put on hold, or worse, time spent with friends is more precious than ever. The Jackass gang aren’t without loss; Ryan Dunn’s untimely death in 2011 is still sorely felt, and during production of Jackass Forever, Margera – who has struggled with addiction and relapse since Dunn’s death – was banned from the set after allegedly threatening director Jeff Tremaine. The way the rest of the gang speak about these tribulations is mature, with Knoxville reflecting: “When someone’s struggling, everyone tries to help that person. And at the end of the day, that person has to want help. Sometimes they don’t. Yet.”
This speaks to what is most compelling about the show. While the stars of Friends or Harry Potter might have seemed a little stilted next to each other at their recent reunion shows, Jackass was born out of real-life friendships and a sincere commitment to the collaboration. Miraculously, while artistic fallouts are ten a penny in Hollywood, these bonds have remained intact, and you can’t fake that sort of chemistry.
This shines through in Jackass Forever; the stunts and pranks are as boneheaded as ever, but there’s a sense, deeply felt, that the driving force behind everything this motley crew do is the impulse to make each other smile. Our formative friendships shape and enrich our entire lives; there’s no greater testament to this than the endurance of MTV’s favourite rascals. Amid the blood and vomit and faecal matter, there’s a warmth and enviable sense of camaraderie. They might still be Jackasses, but their hearts are solid gold.
Hannah Strong is digital editor at Little White Lies
