NAPOLEON DYNAMITE
As Napoleon Dynamite turns 15, star Jon Heder spills on the skills, threads and dance moves that made a small-town boy a flippin’ cultural icon. Gosh!
As the cult comedy turns 15, we speak to Jon Heder.
It’s such a personal film to me,” smiles Jon Heder in LA, casting his mind back to the creation of 2004’s unexpected indie-hit Napoleon Dynamite. “Whether it’s fan mail or meeting someone in the street, I hear about Napoleon almost every day and, because of that, it feels like it never went away. We had such a fun time making it.”
Before Heder became synonymous with the blond ’fro, chunky moon boots and enviable dance skills of awkward high-schooler Napoleon Dynamite, he was exactly that: just another awkward high-schooler. Things changed forever when he met Jared Hess, a fellow classmate and budding director whose love of homegrown oddballs helped him create a character that not only infiltrated the pop-culture zeitgeist but forever changed a generation’s relationship with Jamiroquai’s 1999 single ‘Canned Heat’.
“Jared had so many stories inspired by growing up in Preston, Idaho,” Heder tells Buff. “He’s always had a love for quirky characters and simple town life, how there’s a whole world there that’s weird enough to hold an audience’s attention, but also very relatable.”
Napoleon Dynamite began life in 2002, when Hess and Heder were both students on the film programme at Brigham Young University. A nineminute short film entitled Peluca, it was shot in black and white on 16mm.
“It was about Napoleon’s struggles as he learned to make friends, but we had all these other weird characters surrounding him,” recalls Heder. “Everybody really liked it and Jared thought he could tell more stories, add more characters, and have Napoleon be the centre of this world.”
Peluca was shown at the 2003 Slamdance Film Festival. It was well received, and as work on the feature developed, so did Napoleon. “We got a little deeper,” remembers Heder. “It was almost fate that Jared asked me to do this role because I had a feeling I would get him, and I did. It was me when I was younger – I knew exactly where he was coming from. Mine and Jared’s younger brothers talked like Napoleon and would squint when they got frustrated, so we added this almost cartoonish, over-the-top voice. He’s the type of character that always felt like the world was picking on him and nothing was fair. Napoleon had to fend for himself because Grandma didn’t take any of his crap.”
Thanks to Heder’s familiarity with the character, creating Napoleon’s distinctly retro look came easily. “The closest thing we did to workshopping was going to a thrift store and figuring out his wardrobe,” says Heder. “We were like, ‘This is the kind of shirt he would wear, he’d love these acid-wash jeans, and definitely wear this amazing dragon t-shirt.’ As we talked about his wardrobe, that’s when we’d figure out the way he stood and how he ran.”
Before long, Napoleon’s equally unconventional family members took shape, too. “Everybody has that weird shady uncle,” chuckles Heder, discussing the inspiration behind Jon Gries’ Uncle Rico. “And instead of being successful, Kip [Aaron Ruell] represented the older brother who always sucked from the teat of the government.”
With a scant $400,000 budget, it was all hands on deck during production. “Pretty much everything is as it seems,” assures Heder. “Uncle Rico is the one that throws the meat that hits me in the face, I did all of Napoleon’s drawings and helped make the boondoggle keychains that Pedro gives out. Jared also found out that I liked to dance so he thought that was a surprise we could throw in as the film’s climax. One of the things about Napoleon is that he talks a big talk but we’re pretty sure if you gave him a bo staff, he wouldn’t be able to do much with it. So Jared wanted to find some random skill that Napoleon could use to help his friend.”
Which brings us to the film’s iconic climax. “I was nervous,” chuckles Heder. “It was a closed set. Jared played music and I just started freestyle dancing. As soon as I felt like I was going to puke, I’d stop, they’d switch songs, and I’d do it again. We did that three times.”
On release, Hess’ little indie was a runaway success, scooping $44.5m at the domestic box office and making a cultural impact. “It was surprising,” says Heder. “I didn’t realise we were going to get that wide an audience. Honestly, I just thought, ‘Hopefully I can get a burnt DVD to show to my friends and family when I’m visiting home.’”
“I thought 20 to 30-year-olds were going to enjoy this film, but Napoleon speaks to so many ages. I get older people saying, ‘That was me when I was in high school,’ and I get kids saying, ‘That’s how I feel now, about social anxiety.’” He grins. “It’s become a Christmas classic. It’s a film the whole family can watch and enjoy; kids, parents and grandparents. It’s multigenerational and that’s really cool.”
‘As soon as I felt like I was going to puke, I’d stop, they’d switch songs, and I’d do it again’