Pump Up the Volume

Although pitched precisely at the teen audience, writer/director Alan Moyle's subversive suburban fantasy carries a justified "R" rating for its raw language and subject matter. Set in an Arizona suburb, this Talk Radio "junior" edition, stars Christian Slater as Mark, a shy, retiring, bespectacled high school kid by day, who transforms every evening into "Happy Harry Hard-on," the outspoken deejay with a ham radio who captures the hearts of his teen listeners by playing sexually-explicit rap songs and crying in his Diet Pepsi over the new lost generation. In lieu of suggesting reforms, or offering possibilities, "Harry" offers the barbaric yawp of teenage hormones on the loose--inviting his listeners to write in with their phone numbers so that he can call 'em up live, and discuss problems or just listen to weird stories. "Harry" is particularly hard on his school, and seems to have an insider's knowledge of the evil politics going on there--although relatively new to the school, Mark happens to also be the new school board commissioner's son. What might have been an intriguing and even probing film, however, quickly becomes a teenager pleaser. All of the adults in the film have the I.Q. of mayonnaise, while all of the kids (whether they're protesting the injustices of the school, or just drinking beer and defacing the property for the fun of it) are little heroes. During the final reel, when the FCC (naturally portrayed as buffoons) gets into the act, the movie lays on its anti-censorship message thickly--exhorting kids everywhere to become pirates of the airwaves. That's an interesting thought: 15-year-olds all over America having free speech on the radio. It either never occurs or just isn't important to filmmaker Moyles that perhaps all teenagers are not good-hearted kids with a social conscience. Pump Up the Volume is a dangerous movie--not because of its ideas, but just the opposite: it plays fast and loose with an issue as important as censorship without a brain to steer it, and with both eyes glued to the boxoffice till. Not recommended. (R. Pitman)