Taking on a challenging subject useful to all men, gay or straight, Unhung Hero asks, ‘how do we measure up?’ In fact, there is an app for it, The Chubby Checker, and its creators are being sued for the technology which catalogs user-submitted data to create a global ranking. There is one expert, a condom manufacturer, in Unhung Hero who makes it his business to know global differences.
So what sets Patrick Moote off on this journey? He proposes to his girlfriend on camera at a UCLA basketball game and she says no. Amongst the reasons cited are his small penis, and so Moote and director Brian Spitz set off on a self-described “cockumentary.” The film is somewhat informative, although not as critical of an industry that plays into these fears, as it might have been had it played it totally straight. I don’t think the film has the capacity to do it, nor does it have the balls to go through with what it inches towards, such as Moote actually undergoing surgery to enlarge himself when pills and pumps don’t work.
It has heart, which allows it to transcend the kind of inquiry Richard Christy and Sal Governale might engage in on the Howard Stern show, but it is that heart getting in the way of the large issues at stake. The documentary ends in romance, something that is seemingly artificially constructed (and is not a spoiler alert for anyone who sees it coming). These constructs, without declaring the film to be a work of performance art, seem to nullify the film’s other elements — if this thing is set up, does that mean the other stuff was too? Granted, documentary has been fumbling around with this question since its birth (The seminal Nanook of the North was a collaborative work employing fictional elements).
But this isn’t ethnography. It’s not giving voice to those that cannot speak, unpacking a hidden truth — or is it? This is where I suppose I have to apply the simplest barometer to Unhung Hero, to let you know that I enjoyed the journey. This includes the opening scene, which has Patrick on the verge of a silicone injection in Papua New Guinea, all the way to the inclusion of porn stars. The flaw of Spitz’s film though is that it walks a fine line and is only moderately successful. It doesn’t take huge risks, nor is it super critical of culture. In the end happiness is found and I’m glad it worked for Patrick, who seems like a very nice guy, even if he’s no Jonah Falcon.