Movies are magic. They take visions of the imagination and breathe life into them, projecting them high onto a silver screen in a large auditorium so that the gathered audience can share in the illusion together. Doesn’t matter if the figures on screen are comprised of flesh and blood or PVC pipe and resin, for however a brief period, we come to believe in what we see. So much so that our little adventure may come to mean something more than just a respite from the world. So much so that audience members may find themselves picking up toys, comics, posters, or other collectibles associated with said film in order to maintain that connection. Where it was once commonplace to display fine china, paintings, or sculptures in one’s home, there’s a shift occurring within Generation X, Millennials, and the following generations to seek out aspects of a film’s production, things that move beyond mere memorabilia and into art. For his latest project, Mad Props, filmmaker Juan Pablo Reinoso (Flowers for Nora) explores the world of movie memorabilia by following a collector on a journey of discovery.
Tom Biolchini in Juan Pablo Reinoso’s documentary MAD PROPS. Photo courtesy of LookBook Films.
In Tulsa, Oklahoma, resides lawyer-turned-banker Tom Biolchini with his family. When he’s not in his office, speaking at events, or otherwise working, he seeks out film-related collectibles to acquire. Without getting into what he has at home, one might find a film-used whip from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984), the guns Neo (Keanu Reeves) used in the rooftop sequence of The Matrix (1999), and other items adorning his business office. Owning them is a great source of pride, but not because it’s *the* whip or *those* guns, but because Tom possesses a deep affection for movies and considers owning a small piece of any production of a film he loves merely a means of retaining a fraction of the craftsmanship that went into the creation of the film. Curious about others, Tom is followed by Reinoso as he travels across the United States and parts of Europe talking with other collectors like himself, curators of movie memorabilia, and creatives, making sure to stop in at Stephen Lane’s Prop Store in London, an esteemed auction house specializing in props and costumes.
By using Tom as the focal point for the documentary, Reinoso is able to start wide on his topic, to begin in a relatively relatable place before narrowing further and further into the industry of movie-making. It’s a smart move as Tom is not only fairly charming on his own, but his enthusiasm and excitement for movies and props is, frankly, infectious. Is this a person who seems to casually make bids on objects in the five-six figure range that give us plebs pause? Yeah, but the manner in which Tom talks about the things he’s interested in isn’t out of avarice, but affection, and, therefore, we start to root for the man. He’s not locking these things away either, he’s putting them up where they can be enjoyed by people who come to his home or place of work. Tom may look like an athlete and dress like a professional, but (from one nerd to another) the guy’s a nerd for the way he appreciates that the things he’s bidding on aren’t just items from a film but from films he specifically loves. That’s what makes them valuable — not what they are, but what they were used for. This enables Reinoso to set the foundation for what a collector is and how they view the things that they track down before even starting the task of connecting with other collectors. From these collectors, a question forms regarding whether or not what these collectors are gathering for themselves are merely trinkets, toys, and props or forms of art. This is a significant question and one which requires exploration. To do this, Reinoso sends Tom out to identify and explore various individuals, their collections, and/or their work in pursuit of some answer.
PROP STORE founder Stephen Lane in Juan Pablo Reinoso’s documentary MAD PROPS. Photo courtesy of LookBook Films.
Separate from this doc, let’s consider for a moment that those who passionately watch movies often see more than 10 films in a year. For a professional critic to join a variety of organizations, there can be a range of 12 films covered in a year to upwards of 50. These individuals spend a significant portion of their life each year looking at the world through the perspectives of filmmakers, actors, and all the craftspeople who create the illusions before us, whether fiction or non-fiction, in long or short form. In 2023, this reviewer spent 693.6 hours watching films according to Letterboxd, having watched 407 films (323 new-to-me/84 re-watches) and reviewed around 250 of them. It’s unclear how many films Tom watches, but Reinoso makes sure to sit down (albeit briefly) with Tom’s wife Jess, and one can deduce that she’s not as into film as Tom is. The point here, if you will, is that to those who don’t feel passionately about films are likely going to look at the original Ninja Turtle costume from the 1990 live-action film owned by Luca Cableri (Prop Collector & Museum Curator based in Arezzo, Italy) and wonder why that horrorshow is being kept around? Whereas, someone like myself (and Tom, amusingly) immediately goes, “how is this in such good shape as the material used wasn’t intended to hold up over time; instead, the degradation is pretty gnarly on these things.” That sense of “wow” looking at that suit, seeing the rigs used for the head of Andrew Martin (Robin Williams) in Bicentennial Man (1999), or a full Predator suit used for Aliens vs. Predator: Requiem (2007), doesn’t leave you when movies are your thing and you understand that the films aren’t made by writers, directors, and actors, but by an entire crew of imaginarians who make props, set design, production design, costumes, and more. In this regard, Mad Props is a celebration of all the things cinephiles love.
But there’s still that question about whether or not memorabilia is considered art. There’s a major distinction between what the general public imagines as “art” when the question is asked compared to Tom and his fellow collectors. However, the definition starts to shift a bit when Tom’s talking to another casual collector like himself, someone like Danny Boy O’Connor of House of Pain who owns/operates The Outsiders Museum in Tulsa, or walking the floor of Amalgamated Dynamics/Studio Gillis with Alec Gillis and actors Robert Englund (A Nightmare on Elm Street) and Lance Henriksen (the Alien series). By shifting the focus from general collectors and going to speak to the people who run museums dedicated to memorabilia, as well as the people who (a) make the things and (b) use them in their work, an answer to the question begins to take shape. Certainly, the answer seems obvious to those who love films, but that’s what is great about Reinoso’s structure, it doesn’t assume that the audience watching is Tom or Jess, walking a tightrope that includes well-edited clips from the films that each new subject is talking about so that if the name of the film or the item itself doesn’t ring a bell, Reinoso enables us to see enough of the original context to grasp what’s being explored. Additionally, by going from the wider view of a collector to a narrow focus via Gillis (for instance), the audience is guided into a world where the thing being created that comes to be valued later starts as something small with its own in-world logic, fashioned with the perspective of the story in mind, not what others might make of it once the film is finished. Even the most disconnected from cinema will walk away with a better understanding of why those who specialize in movie memorabilia are excited to take part.
L-R: Alec Gillis of Amalgamated Dynamics/Studio Gillis, Tom Biolchini, and actors Robert Englund and Lance Henriksen in Juan Pablo Reinoso’s documentary MAD PROPS. Photo courtesy of LookBook Films.
No matter what one may presume based on the above exploration, Mad Props is not designed to provide a history lesson on cinema history or go in-depth on the stories of what Tom comes to see. That’s a *much* longer experience and one which Reinoso isn’t interested in putting forward here. This is not a slight at all. Rather, Mad Props has a clear mission and that’s working to shift the perspectives of audiences regarding modern art and how materials from movies should be in the conversation when it comes to that. At least with the collectors that Reinoso highlights, the items each have are meant to be displayed openly, to allow people to see and inspect (perhaps not touch, though) in order to engage with the stories they love in a different, more tangible way. As someone who proudly displays the Bruce Campbell-autographed director’s cut VHS edition of Army of Darkness (1992) that I personally got signed by him in Fall 2002, as someone whose office is filled with artist interpretations of cinema work or film-related books/tchotchkes, if there might even be the slightest shift in public perception that perhaps a passion for cinema is not so strange, but a recognition of a small part of world history would be nice.
If nothing else, Reinoso’s doc will empower those like Tom to feel a little less alone and a little more validated, while the artisans who create the things that Prop Store might one day auction feel a little more seen and recognized.
In theaters Spring 2024.
For more information about the filmmaker, head to Juan Pablo Reinoso’s official We Are LookBook website.
Final Score: 4 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
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