Documentary Review: "#NoJoke" (2019)

I’m unsure exactly how to objectively review a documentary about a subject that is so painfully near and objectionably dear to my heart as bullying. It’s a topic that many are loathe to discuss, even in 2019, because the responses range from being triggered by abhorrent memories all the way to shame at remembered tortures inflicted on others (sometimes even going together).

Yes, I’m speaking of myself there (in a way). We’ll get to that.

#NoJoke is the documentary deep dive into Canadian musician Andrew Cole’s mission to get his anti-bullying song some star power and put it out there (à la “We Are the World”) and make a difference. A victim of bullying himself, Andrew underestimates the power the events of his youth had on his adult psyche and quickly ends up seeking out his own bully and facing the demons of his relationship with his father. Along the way, he manages to score song work from and interviews with a number of high-profile celebrities, from Jeff Goldblum, Jane Lynch, and Sir Patrick Stewart to Chad Smith, Lemmy Kilmister, and Ozzy Osbourne. He also visits Columbine High School and experiences the echoes of just how deadly and powerful the effects of bullying can be.

The diversity of Andrew’s personal discovery in #NoJoke is both a blessing and a curse. The very real pain he has to experience and finally face makes for a critically compelling documentary that does exactly what you want out of the style. Andrew really could be any of us, and I certainly found myself unable to quiet many old ghosts. There’s nothing scripted or even remotely orchestrated in his journey; he clearly is surprised by where some of this goes and deserves kudos for having the bravery to hang in there.

The celebrity/song side of the story is also compelling, but it gets a bit lost in the shuffle. There are some powerful revelations from Michael Biehn (Terminator) and Sir Patrick Stewart (Star Trek: The Next Generation) about the bullying they perpetrated on others growing up that clearly shows the shame that comes from being the bully and examines the reasons behind being a bully (though it’s much too brief). Also, no less than The Prince of Darkness himself, Ozzy Osbourne, opens up about what he endured as a youth. It’s equally compelling to Andrew’s journey (and full of that star power we all love so much!), but it would have been nice to see more of it in balance.

That’s the crux of #NoJoke- it has to serve two masters, so to speak, and both are avenues that you want to explore more fully on their own. The split is a little frustrating, but that’s not the worst criticism a documentary can get; it’s akin to saying “you did this too well, damn you!” The ending also came as a bit abrupt, but those endings can be tricky (regardless of genre/format).

What cannot be denied is the power of the message and the effective cohesion between Andrew’s tale and that of the Columbine High Massacre. It’s a day that brought bullying to the forefront of the American psyche and, frankly, a day that didn’t surprise me in the slightest. As the “poor kid” in a well-to-do, virtually all-white, desirable school, I suffered some pretty relentless bullying in a day and age when bullying wasn’t a buzz word but a fact of life. When I snapped, it wasn’t with a gun but with my fists. I hurt a fair amount of people who had it coming (some badly). Along the way, though, I became a bit of a bully myself in reputation if not in deed. After shooting up 6 inches and 60 pounds between my 8th and 9th grade years, I became a terror who only needed to glance in your direction to inspire fear. Then one day, a scrawny little dude said something he shouldn’t have. I could have let it pass, but instead I hurt him VERY badly.

And that’s where the most effective parts of #NoJoke brought me back to- walking to the office with his blood spattered up to both of my elbows and laughing like a fucking lunatic, flanked by my fellow football players (for the protection of others). Doors opened in classrooms as they stared at the madman before them, and the crazy part is that I was utterly calm while I beat the mouthy bastard half to death. It wasn’t until I was sitting in front of the police and the principal, getting expelled, that I noticed some of his his teeth were buried in my knuckles.

True story. Not a proud story, but a damn true one nonetheless. If you’re reading this and you know me personally from those days then you know exactly what I’m referring to.

So, yeah…bullying is one ugly ass rabbit-hole of pain and retaliation that proves that old tentpole of physics: that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. In that light, director Manfred Becker’s documentary on the story of Andrew Cole’s journey of both of song & self may not be cinematic perfection, but I’m the last person to deny its importance.

#NoJoke releases Oct. 22nd on streaming platforms

Grade:

3.5 out of 5.0 stars