The film takes a look at news reports describing a handful of gruesome crimes, attempted murders, and assaults perpetrated by people who happened to be Juggalos (one story about an ax and a hunting knife is particularly disturbing), as well as ICP's lyrics, many of which are perceived as being violent in nature or encouraging violent acts. The film manages to toggle between the idea that two things can be true. He adds, "But then, once we started, it was the moment when the gang designation was going from being a joke to the band and the Juggalos realizing how serious it was, and then we're starting to get calls about people whose lives were truly being destroyed." It's like Star Wars, Harry Potter, Marvel movies, Disneyland, and ICP. And I mean, you can count on one hand the number of people that have done that, right. It's about two guys who are high school dropouts, who came from really tough situations and they didn't just build a successful business - they created this whole fantasy world that a million people live in today. And on the one hand, it's one of the most amazing American success stories I've ever seen. They weren't trying bullshit us or tell us what we wanted to hear. "They talked about incredibly personal stuff was very easy to see that they weren't holding back. "They were hilarious, as advertised, but they also shocked me with how incredibly open and vulnerable they were in the interview," Putnam says. Neither of those destructive acts occurred. Putnam says he only knew of ICP through their music videos (like this one) and through Saturday Night Live sketches (like this one starring Jason Sudeikis of Ted Lasso fame), as well as general public perception, so there was some concern that they might, you know, smash their film gear or set the building on fire. And we then sat down with them and did the first interview that you seen the film, and it was really kind of, 'Hey, let's all do an interview, see, if you like us, we'll see if we get along with you and if it makes sense to make this movie.' And I was totally blown away. "Because we figured that if you're going on a long stagecoach ride with somebody, you better make sure you're going to like them. "We still didn't know if we were going to do it," Putnam says. "I didn't know a whole lot about them, and called them up and said, 'Hey, we might be interested in making a documentary about you," Putnam recalls, "and they said, 'Can you have a film crew here tomorrow?'"Īnd the rest was his. While the film's focus is on the grueling back-and-forth decade-long battle to reclassify the "last real subculture in America" as not being a threat to the American public (which, spoiler alert, is far from over), the heart of the film is the all-too humble beginnings of how ICP came to be, what inspires them (Michael Jackson, NWA, and Pearl Jam, to name a few), and why becoming the painted faces of Juggalo nation was always, they believe, their destiny.įor Sanchez and Putnam, who were plotting their next project following the success of Burn, a documentary about Detroit firefighters, the Juggalo journey has been a sticky seven-year process, which started in 2014, on the day ICP held a press conference where they announced, with the support of the ACLU, that they would be challenging the F.B.I. If this happened to a band America liked, the country would be up in arms about this." "And there's a lot to not understand about ICP.
"People hate what they don't understand," Violent J says in the film. The United States of Insanity, a new documentary directed by Tom Putnam and Brenna Sanchez that opens in theaters Tuesday, explores ICP's Shaggy 2 Dope and Violent J's journey from high school dropouts to unlikely First Amendment warriors amid their fight to defend their fans in the wake of the FBI classifying the group as "a loosely-organized hybrid gang," lumping the duo and their devoted fanbase with notorious gangs including the Bloods, Crips, and even MS-13.