After "How did life originate?" and "Is there a Creator?" perhaps the next Big Question commonly posed the theologian and scientific philosopher is a ponderous biggie that probably all of us have contemplated at some point in our lives. That being: 'Why do humans pass gas, and why is audible farts funny to so many people?' Granted, you can try looking for an answer to this two-part inquiry in some so-called holy book but chances are you will come up empty, or you can simply watch FART: A DOCUMENTARY, in which, if you're like me, you may intuitively discover a light-hearted universe, one where, say, angelic pranksters stealthily slip a fart-mimicking cushion atop God's non-porcelain throne at the moment He's about to pronounce judgement. (Nothing like a little levity to help lighten the mood.) Okay, so the film is a bit juvenile and a tad lowbrow, but if it has anything to teach us it's that, as with the act of defecation, the expelling of flatulence is another great equalizer. Whether pauper or prince, layman or lord, we all do it -- (fart, that is).
As a kid, I never understood it when mom and dad would reprimand me for farting at the dinner table. Here we are reminded that the breaking of wind is "a natural process" and a normal "bodily function," arguments I myself would use when as a child I was told it was not polite to do, not proper etiquette, especially during mealtime. Still, we can't all be Emily Post, now, can we "Mr. Methane"?
Meet Paul Oldfield, also known by his stage name, "Mr. Methane." Clad in a superhero costume, the guy tours this great big stinkin' world of ours as a showman quite unlike any other. (Hey, some are called to be preachers, others fartistes.) Suffice it to say, the gifted "Mr. Methane" makes a believer out of many, echoing that divine mouthpiece of yore, Le Petomane (aka, Joseph Pujol), the 19th-century Frenchman whose unique bilingual talent astounded many an audience member back in the day, an entertainer who's also (however briefly) featured here. (So son, what do you want to be when you grow up?)
The books of Jim Dawson are given some attention in this, as well. Mind you, these page-turners may not be quite up there with Plato and Lao Tzu...or then again, maybe they are on some level, if you catch my malodorous drift.
In FART, we hear not only from one or two fartologists and professional farters but also from a few ordinary men and women, who tell of their own experiences with flatulence, and commendably without any sense of shame or embarrassment, whatsoever. Whether tooter or crop-duster, ripper or silent assassin, we learn that farters come in all shapes and sizes, regardless of one's gender.
Yes, you read that correctly: 'Regardless of one's gender.' Fantastically, as a kid, I also used to think farting was something that only boys and men not of the cloth did -- certainly not pretty girls and attractive women! FART lays that myth to rest once and for all, as we hear from various females confess to doing what in my childhood I thought was for gals and ladies an impossibility. Moreover, some women express to wanting equal rights with men with regard to farting, believing they should be allowed to fart freely just as men do, and say that for men to call the act "unladylike" is a patriarchal description/gross misconception. (As a man whose illusions have long since been shattered, all I can say is: You go, girl!)
Not surprisingly, so it is that not everyone will appreciate this evidently underrated film. I, for one, rather enjoyed it, and for me it was a refreshing change from the often far more serious if not disturbing subject matter I am accustomed to watching as a documentary film viewer. And there I think I've hit on a point. For I think one of the main problems with the human race, is so many adults take themselves far too seriously, as with those who view the passing of wind to be "undignified." Yet until we start seeing the farting human for who he and she truly is, my feeling is humanity as a whole will never truly grow up. After all, were we not given the fart to keep us as innocent as babes and as grounded as the family dog?
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