The documentary Biker Fox might be more aptly called The World According to Biker Fox, since Jeremy Lamberton’s Slamdance sensation is one very long infomercial for Frank P. DeLarzelere III, a zany, evangelizing health junkie cut from the cloth of Richard Simmons (complete with booty-shaking spandex shorts) who refers to himself in the third person as Biker Fox, and whose overzealous passion for cycling has led him to numerous road-rage run-ins with the Tulsa, Oklahoma law. Biker Fox is a Peter Pan with anger-management issues, a pure exuberant spirit and merry prankster who enjoys everything from feeding wild raccoons by hand in his backyard to reverse prank calling clients who phone the upstanding, salvaged auto-parts business he owns. (One poor guy is greeted by Biker Fox shouting over eardrum-shattering heavy metal music.)
But underneath the Jackass-type antics (Biker Fox swats at a wasp’s nest just for the heck of it) and YouTube-worthy clips (Biker Fox makes music with his power tools) is a midnight movie with a message. Sounding like a true-believing preacher, Biker Fox delivers wonderful words of wisdom about leading a positive life. “Take down your fences. Take down your barriers. Let wildlife in,” he implores in one of his numerous nonstop sermons, urging folks to get up off the couch and actually live and breathe the beauty that’s all around them. “Set your mind free an hour a day,” he also advises, touting the sense of wellbeing that comes from walking and, of course, cycling. As an ominous thunderstorm rages behind him, Biker Fox asks, “Does lightning bother you?” “Just another obstacle to overcome,” he then adds cheerily, preparing to ride away in the evening rain.
Unfortunately, these revelatory moments are nearly lost as Lamberton’s homemade, manic filmmaking style—the quick cuts, bike POV shots, tribal chanting, and looped monologue snippets are all pieced together like a child’ collage—to match his hyperactive, showboating star results in ADD overload. By not balancing the film out by slowing things down cinematically, even while Biker Fox revs up the action, Lamberton’s doc soon runs out of steam. About halfway through, the gonzo mayhem becomes a series of predictable, one-upping stunts and Biker Fox simply burns out. Ultimately, the film garners the overall aura of spending time with a cokehead; what was amusing at first becomes annoyingly repetitive an hour later. Bravely riding full speed ahead, Biker Fox nevertheless ends up in the very same place.
Since 2001, we've brought you uncompromising, candid takes on the world of film, music, television, video games, theater, and more. Independently owned and operated publications like Slant have been hit hard in recent years, but we’re committed to keeping our content free and accessible—meaning no paywalls or fees.
If you like what we do, please consider subscribing to our Patreon or making a donation.
