Genius 2000- The Video

Review By Patrick Lichty (aka Voyd)

Max Herman is the new messiah, or at least he might think he might be. At least he wants you to think so.

I received the Genius 2000 video from Oakland-based performance artist Nickolas Herman (who plays

Max) this week, and in spite of myself, I thoroughly enjoyed the piece. Although rough-hewn and drawn

out in places, Genius 2000 is one of the more human pieces of performance-based film that I have seen in a

while.

Don't listen to Max. Watch him.

Genius 2000 operates on many levels. It is a film about taxonomy, philosophy, and the human condition at

the turn of the Millenium. The film is divided into a series of sections, delineated by a momentary

reflection on a Greek or Latin word root (such as hybris, ate, and so on). And in each of these sections, we

see Max, our self-styled Millennial Messiah, hanging out in Bay Area coffee shops, Christmas parties, and

at the Mall of America, as he passes out Genius 2000 tracts and ponders the nature of Genius at the turn of

the Millennium. What is the meaning of the word, "Genius", and how can one relate to such a term? Can

anyone who ponders such a term ever truly fit the definition, defeated by their own self-reflexivity, or are

we all, in fact, capable of being Genii in some way?

Max also raises the question of Christianity, not as a religion, but as a philosophical concept. If we decenter

Christianity from a religious context to wonder who can be 'chosen' or 'anointed' in the age of media hype,

what are we left with? Are we stuck in some Warholian milieu in which virtuosity is measured in terms of

media star power, and conglomerations of corporate (profit or non-) influence? Perhaps, and Max looks at

ways to get his ideas across through the media, new and traditional. Because what's the use in being a

Messiah if no one hears you?

If you've been reading any of the Internet mailing lists that are "in the know" about New Media Art, you've

heard Max. He rants about about Classical, Transcendental, and Romantic thought, frequently breaking

down into Oakland street trash talk. But that's Max. In an age of media polemic, he gets your attention,

although you might not get what he's trying to tell you.

Perhaps what Max says isn't as interesting as watching his journey. Genius 2000 isn't about product, it's a

process. It's an ethnographic snapshot of American culture at the fin de millennium. Scenes that come to

mind are ones of handing out tracts at a street festival, proclaiming with friends that they've 'figured it out!"

while driving across the Bay Bridge, and asking his parents whether he might be a Genius. In so doing, I

wonder whether if there were a Second Coming, would the Messiah come floating to Earth in a blaze of

Industrial Light & Magic - augmented glory? Or, would he be playing hockey and scarfing down blueberry

waffles in Minnesota while questioning whether he may have really unraveled the riddles of human

existence? A Messiah listening to the dying words of Charles Geter on NPR, abjectly munching nacho

chips by the dashboard light.

And it's this sort of humanity, in its roughshod, snarky, late-night cable access TV glory that's appealing,

garage band soundtrack and all. Admittedly, it's not perfect, as its message sometimes gets obfuscated in

endless Clerks-esque coffeeklatsch banter and discontinuous edits. But it's this quality that makes me

appreciate Max's journey of self exploration, in an almost Heian sort of admiration for the imperfect and

cracked. In an era when media art is characterized by ironic play and critical distancing, Max's genuineness

is oddly refreshing.

"Genius is often held in a cracked pot.", says Max's mom over waffles. And maybe Max is the sort of

'crack(ed)-pot" that could signify that Genius that we all possess. Is he the Chosen One? Probably not, but

who knows? Regardless, Genius 2000 is the slightly less-than-epic story of a modern-day Messiah that,

despite its flaws, has despite my better judgement, won me over.