Super Sucker

I was all slept out at 4:30 this morning so I got up and flipped on the tube.  I saw a really odd movie.  It's called Super Sucker and is about two teams of independent vacuum cleaner salespeople vying for control of the Johnson City, Michigan territory.  The fine folks who manufacture the Super Sucker vacuum cleaner have agreed to a one month contest to see who should be the sole distributor in the area.  One team is slick and professional, with sharp red uniforms and matching trucks.  The other team is the usual ragtag crew of losers. 

Of course, the Slick team kicks the Loser's asses until the leader of the Losers comes home and hears moans of ecstacy mixed with sounds of vacuuming coming from his upstairs bedroom.  He discovers his wife in the final throes of an explosive masturbatory orgasm, produced by a drapery/upholstery attachment on the Super Sucker.  You assume the look on his face is disgust or disbelief . . . but it turns out to be a flash of inspiration.  He summons his troop of losers and teaches them how to sell the attachment to women and men by not so subtly suggesting how it might be used.

Soon, sales are through the roof and the slick team is getting trounced.  The losers become more and more bold in their presentations to garden clubs and gay bars, biker gatherings and convents. The Slick team makes a last ditch effort to sabotage the Losers in the final days of the contest by stealing their boxes of signed contracts. They are foiled when news of the heist gets out and thousands of supportive consumers, each brandishing the attachment (The Homemakers Little Helper) overhead surround the evil Slick team and force the return of the stolen contracts. 

Our joyful heroes take their boxes to the contest counting room only to discover that Americans Against the Sexual Abuse of Household Appliances (AASAHA) has busted the entire organization.  The movie ends with our team of Losers going door to door selling, what else?  Shower Massages. 

The 2002 release was written and directed by its star, Jeff Daniels, and was filmed entirely in the town of Jackson, Michigan -- a lovely place I have visited. I found it to be sharp, fast paced and above all Silly, Silly, Silly.  One of the Silliest movies I've ever seen.  And I loved it.  There is so much sexual innuendo that you have to restrain your laughter to not miss the next line.  'The Super Sucker makes housekeeping . . . a pleasure!'  'The Homemakers Little Helper features a Nap Nipper.  Everyone's Nap needs Nipping now and then.'  The nap nipper is this pulsating thing that pokes in and out, in and out of the center of the attachment.  The flip of a switch changes the thing from a sucking action to a blowing action, so you are either a Sucker or a Blower depending on your personal preference. 

Daniels is Daniels:  I always like him.  He's fresh and believable and always a little innocent . . . or dumb.  And I think he took great care with the details in this raunchy romp.  For example, when his wife collapses on the bed after pleasuring herself with the Homemakers Little Helper, you see his stunned face at the door and then a shadow moving across the wife's face, cuing his entrance.  Most would have lit the scene without regard to this little detail.  It's that kind of thinking that runs through this film.  Here's another one:  The soundtrack ambiance changes when we follow people into and out of an elevator.  Think about that for a minute.  It's really twisted.

Dawn Wells -- Maryann from Gilligan's Island -- makes a guest appearance as herself,  the spokesperson who endorses the vacuum and is outraged when she learns it's being sold for bizarre sexual purposes. 

Unfortunately, Super Sucker got an R rating which kept its natural audience (hormonally deranged teenagers) away.   My own emotional evolution ran out of steam when I was 14, so I was deliriously happy with the movie.  Actually, the humor is fairly adult and the language probably moves too fast for young ears.   Sorry, kids.

Bottom line is:  the bottom line sucked for Super Sucker.  It made a mere $120,000 on 115 screens opening weekend. It was down to 46 screens and a total gross of $155,000 by the end of its second week and booked only five screens for week three. The movie cost $4 Million to make. 

Still, I saw it at 4:30 in the morning on Showtime, and Blockbuster probably bought a few copies . . . so they may ultimately make it back to zero.  Searching for images, I saw promo posters in Romanian, German and Dutch, so I assume there was also a large international release. 

Here's the point:  We, the people, must take over the role once occupied by the wealthiest members of our society, that of the patron of the arts.  After all, there would have been no Mozart, no Michelangelo without the participation of their wealthy patrons.  So, go out and buy this thing . . . or ask Showtime to screen it during prime-time . . . or even go rent it.  I mean, this could be Jeff Daniel's Sistine Chapel, you know?  Let us all do our part to keep it from slipping into the ooze of silly oblivion.