I Know What My Fortune Is: Why Jackass: The Movie Deserves Its Place in the Criterion Collection
On snobbery and earnestness

On November 14th, The Criterion Channel put out a press release announcing their lineup for December 2024. Under a header of Cary Grant running away from a plane in North by Northwest, the cinephile braintrust at Criterion announced that, nestled alongside Varda, Rohmer, and Kiarostami, the Channel would feature “a sampler of MTV Productions’s turn-of-the-century thrills”. To this critic, this all feels like a smokescreen. This was a ruse so Criterion could have probable cause to add Jeff Tremaine’s 2002 debut feature Jackass: The Movie to their storied collection.
Yes, Criterion’s newest curated series spotlights the Moonman’s foray into big-screen filmmaking, a lineup that includes Alexander Payne’s Election, The Original Kings of Comedy and Mike Judge’s Beavis and Butt-Head Do America, but most importantly Jackass: The Movie. While it’s precisely the kind of movie that my mother would have either forbidden me to watch as a boy, or at least looked on with disapproval, Jackass’ inclusion in the streamer of choice for many Kinoheads just makes sense. As of late, there has been a considerable critical reevaluation of the antics of Johnny Knoxville, Steve-O, Bam, and the gang, from essays to gorgeous paintings by Lee Schulder1. Criterion’s choice feels less like an unlikely inclusion and more like the natural extension of the zeitgeist.
Thanks for reading! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
As far as I can tell, there isn’t major dissent around this choice. As a matter of fact, the dorks on Letterboxd (myself included), have been looking favorably on Jackass being added to the Criterion Channel. But hold on, you may ask, how could the profane and scatological folderol of Jackass: The Movie even be considered for inclusion?
Well, when has provocation ever precluded addition to the canon? John Waters is the December 2024 Criterion headliner, after all. The aforementioned North By Northwest famously ends with an absolutely sophomoric visual gag. If anything, the Jackass crew’s willingness to push boundaries of taste puts them in good company on Criterion.
Fine, you may reply (and please, keep your voice down), there may be gross or dumb stuff in the modern film canon, but it’s made with style, grace, and panache. There’s no artistic merit whatsoever to the puerile marathon of Jackass. To that, I say, first of all, art is subjective, but I’ll follow up with some simple comparisons. Where you may see Johnny and Steve-O trashing a golf cart as wanton destruction, I’d like to point you to the postwar movement of auto-destructive art, invented by Gustav Metzger, a German-Jewish conceptual artist working in England in the late 1950s, as well as its later adherents.
There is a certain political unconscious, to crib a concept from Frederic Jameson, at play in the sequence where Johnny, Ehren, and Dave blast airhorns at golfers from the bushes of their exclusive course. What better way is there for an oppressed underclass to express their discontent with the one percent than to disrupt their leisure activities? That’s civil disobedience, baby.
Jackass also puts itself in conversation with some of the great works of modern filmmaking through aesthetic choices. The film’s episodic structure, with each vignette announcing the subject of each segment, calls to mind the great German theatrical auteur Bertolt Brecht. Among Brecht’s disciples was Jean-Luc Godard, who used the episodic structure to great effect in groundbreaking films such as Masculin Feminin and Week-end (which itself features scenes of destruction). And what is Chris “Party Boy” Pontius’ sojourn to Tokyo but a reiteration of the “ugly American abroad” trope as seen in The American Friend, Playtime, or Lost in Translation2?
One thing worth mentioning is that The Criterion Channel and the Criterion Collection are not necessarily the same thing. It’s sort of a square-rectangle dynamic, where most of the Criterion Collection is on the channel, while the Criterion Channel is supplemented by films that Criterion licenses from other distributors to suit their curatorial goals. BUT I think that, for the reasons stated above as well as the general goodwill regarding the release, Criterion should consider officially adding Jackass: The Movie to the Criterion Collection. Imagine how many physical media dorks (again, myself included) would jump at the chance to add a 4K Blu-ray to their collection, so they can view Pontius’ balls at the highest resolution. I’m willing to bet that a fair share of future Criterion Closet visitors would add it to their tote bag.
There is a lot more going on under the grimy skate-video sheen of Jackass: The Movie than crass bodily injury. The film and its sequels span twenty years, depicting the depths and limits of male friendship in the 21st century. These men are willing to put their lives and bodies on the line just to make their buddies laugh. The eagerness with which these men disrobe in front of each other for a good time has deep resonance in 2024, as masculinity has festered into a landscape of incels, volcels, and the blackpilled. As Max Read elucidates in his insightful post-election coverage, young men are being radicalized through their TikTok feeds, which I would argue leads them away from genuine connections like those of the Jackass gang3. As the men of Jackass’ relationships have publicly survived and faltered, their films and original television series have revealed themselves to be major, richly poignant, works.
It’s safe to say that Jackass: The Movie has more than earned its spot on The Criterion Channel. As we learn to dismantle, or at the very least question, our notions of high versus low art, let Jackass: The Movie be a test case. Look for the high art in the low, and vice-versa. If something resonates, there is value to it, so perhaps that’s enough to warrant inclusion in the canon. At the risk of being a “let people enjoy things” guy, people can find beauty and poignancy in just about anything. So hop on Criterion (or get a free trial), and check in with Johnny Knoxville and his merry band. I can’t guarantee much, but I’m sure that you’ll have a good time.
Take a look at their Instagram. ↩
A movie I dislike, but that’s a different conversation. ↩
This doesn’t mean that Knoxville and co. are feminist kings. There’s a very 2002 joke in the movie about a “Courtney Love-sized maxi pad” that sticks out like a sore thumb. ↩