Taking its title from the types of characters that Danny Trejo became famous playing, Brett Harvey’s hagiographic documentary “Inmate #1: The Rise of Danny Trejo” is a routine, but nevertheless inspirational, chronicle of character actor Trejo’s rise from the tough Pacoima neighborhood through his addiction to heroin as a teenager, to his stints in jail, and finally his triumph as a hard-working actor who has over 400 acting credits to his name.
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Uncomplicated in its talking head format, in which Trejo’s coworkers and friends contextualize his life, Harvey’s documentary succeeds mainly because of the fascinating life that Trejo led.
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Framed around Trejo’s trip to a prison to speak to prisoners about his own recovery, the film chronologically tracing Trejo’s upbringing, “Inmate #1” focalizes Trejo’s relationship with his Uncle Gilbert, who introduced him to both crime and drugs, with Trejo recounting, at one point, holding the belt for his uncle as he shot up heroin when he was 12. Trejo’s addiction soon spirals, as he is eventually sent to prison, spending the majority of the 1960s in and out of jail. There, Trejo fell into gang life before eventually entering recovery and becoming a boxer, winning the San Quentin lightweight and welterweight championships in the process.
Ironically, Trejo’s hardened life is what helped him gain the attention of director Andrei Konchalovsky and screenwriter Eddie Bunker who asked Trejo to train the actor Eric Roberts for a boxing scene in the film “Runaway Train.” From there, Trejo worked his way up from extra to full-blown character actor. The main driving force is Trejo’s own words, as he matter-of-factly tells how the camera about the adjustments faced with prison life, including his hardened attitude and time spent in solitary in which he would act out “The Wizard of Oz” by himself, something he credits with his initial introduction to acting.
Upon leaving prison, Trejo became a drug counselor and in-demand speaker, something of which he continues to this day. Part of AA and NA, Trejo credits his sobriety with his professional success and Harvey’s film, for the most part, mimics this inspirational format. Trejo’s success as an actor is nothing less than unconventional and Harvey traces Trejo’s rise, eventually focusing on his relationship with Robert Rodriguez, with whom he’s collaborated multiple times, including on the career-defining films “Machete” and “Machete Kills.” While Trejo has had a varied career as an actor, his career has often involved typecasting of some kind, with his big build and heavily tattooed body lending itself to those roles.
Interestingly, Harvey allows a number of Trejo’s friends, including Rodriguez and fellow actors Donal Logue and Michelle Rodriguez contextualize his life, explaining how Trejo reacted to certain setbacks and career choices. While these talking-heads are standard fare, the film is at its best when squarely focused on Trejo telling his own story. He’s an eloquent storyteller, as evidenced by his speaking engagements to convicts and recovering addicts. He is a no-nonsense storyteller, aptly charting his rough childhood and his practical approach to acting.
However, the title “Inmate #1” is also a bit misleading. Instead of an expected discussion of the marginalization of Latino actors like Trejo, who is still often cast as a gang member, the film doesn’t include any larger commentary on Trejo’s career and his relationship with Hollywood. As Trejo states, he’ll take on really any role, more concerned with the process than the final result. This is not a criticism of the film, but an interesting note, as Harvey shows that Trejo has died more times on film than any other actor ever, but does little to contextualize what those deaths mean. “Inmate #1” is concerned with Trejo’s career, outside of the implications of fellow Latino actors. Because of that approach, “Inmate #1” sheds light on Trejo’s rise, but not the context that contributed to the roles he was given.
What emerges is a portrait of an unconventional actor who has deep ties to his community and has broken free from the confines that Hollywood attempted to place him in. Trejo, and by extension the film, is an uplifting testament to the power of recovery. While perhaps too traditional in its format, “Inmate #1” does well to shed light on an under-appreciated actor with a fascinating backstory. [B]