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Louis Theroux: The Call of the Weird – Travels in American Subcultures
More articles on this topic: BooksIf you are fascinated with weird people, does that make you weird too? Come to think of it, aren’t we all a little bit weird in our own way? The wonderfully disarming Louis Theroux may pose these questions in The Call of the Weird: Travels in American Subcultures, but it seems a bit disingenuous.
Especially when he’s tracking down Thor Templar, Lord Commander of the Earth Protectorate, and self-styled alien hit-man, whose weapon of choice is the alien mutilator gun. Or when he’s talking to a Heaven’s Gate survivor about the cult’s belief in castration — making it easier to control their vehicles. Truly weird and although it’s true everyone has their foibles, these people are in another league.
That Theroux affects concern about his own obsession is understandable. Anyone who takes six months out to chase around US wackovilles — a reunion tour to catch up with 10 of his most intriguing ex-interviewees — has to be a little mad.
But for Theroux the draw of the marginal worlds of white supremacy, pornography, prostitution, gangsta rap, patriots and more, is irresistible. It’s a job that someone has to do, and who better than the enigmatic Theroux to give us an unassuming insight into the minds of musician Ike Turner, millionaire conman Marshall Sylver, or the white-power 12-year-olds Lamb and Lynx and their mother April.
If there is a criticism of this collection of weirdo re-encounters, it’s that much of the time it reads like the voiceover of a documentary TV script — hardly surprising given Theroux’s prowess in the field. Cue his brilliant BBC series Weird Weekends and Louis Meets … where Theroux charms and infiltrates the fringes of society and at the same time honestly portrays his role in the process.
Those who have seen these documentaries may get a little frustrated as Weird recounts the backstory. But as in the documentaries, it’s Theroux’s constant questioning of his own motives that adds an extra dimension.
Theroux worries about jocular comments he has made about Thor Templar and reflects on his own frustrations at not being able to get to know Bob Short, whose special ability was that he could channel space friends, in particular one called Korton. “Because I, myself, am literal minded and perhaps a little self doubting, I assume other people are happy to examine their contradictions. But it wasn’t so.”
Weird also allows a little philosophy. At the conclusion of a UFO congress where Theroux is told his aura is 15ft — “the biggest yet” — Theroux surmises: “That even something untrue can produce an effect; that sometimes a con is also an act of kindness.”
Although most of the reunions prove little has changed, except some of the people are living sadder, more lonely lives, Weird wins on two counts: the natural curiosity about the strange and Theroux’s dance with his own angst. Will the next Tina question push Ike Turner over the edge? Is he really any different from Marshall Sylver? “Like Marshall I influenced people. I practised forms of journalistic persuasion … By what right could I rule Marshall’s techniques were exploitative?”
Theroux’s therapeutic insight is that, yes indeed, he is an odd fish and through his documentary work he has created a tiny off-beat subculture. “A little like a cult leader or a prostitute, I had been working in a grey area somewhere south of absolute candour …” Armed with such a realisation, it will be interesting to see where Theroux goes next.
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