A 3-and-a-half hour masterclass in psychosexual character studies that does wonders with its limited plot and immerses you in its totally unfiltered and raw reality to the point where you forget its initially daunting runtime. That said, the only thoughts crossing my mind once it ended concerned just how indescribably gorgeous Jean-Pierre Léaud was in 1973.
David Lynch is a man so dedicated to his artistic vision that he made a 135 minute-long, $10 million budget feature just to expand on all the nasty, utterly gut-wrenching shit he couldn't get away with on network television, despite knowing from the get-go that it would alienate the majority of the audience that praised his previous work. I honestly have a hard time trusting anyone who doesn't like the guy.
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
This critically acclaimed third feature from In Bruges director Martin McDonagh introduced me to one of my favourite fictional characters to ever grace the silver screen: Crazy Rapist from Idaho.
Crazy Rapist from Idaho spends most of his days raping people (duh), and his hobbies include visiting other states, discussing the joy of rape with his rapist friends at bars in said states, violently confronting and intimidating people he has no relation to and whose actions haven't affected his life…