• August Underground

    August Underground

    It’s okay, judge me. It’s what anyone deserves when they let morbid curiosity get the better of them instead of worrying about the moral decay of the universe. But as much as I convinced myself these last few years I was done with these kinds of films, this one just lingered in the periphery. A monstrous shadow looming over all modern transgressive cinema. An omnipresent internet pest, texting me disembodied lols and emojis of claw hammers and severed nipple oops-memes…

  • Zombie Flesh Eaters

    Zombie Flesh Eaters


    I feel I was already pretty fluent in speaking Fulci the first time I saw this years ago. I'd only seen City of the Living Dead by that point, but it had already exploded inside my brain like some kind of cinematic stroke. The weird kind that unlocks a previously unknown language in your brain. The kind that would make me start speaking in nothing but a grotesque Italian accent whenever discussing the fever dream logic of this man's films.…

  • Caniba



    It's been a couple of weeks since I gave this a five star review on letterboxd, and I think I'm still trying to decode what this means. I think it's fair that some people think that maybe this movie shouldn't even exist. And yeah, I think this film flirts very close, or crosses the line, possibly even rushes right past that line, of what I'd consider exploitation. Exploitation of a sordid story of murder. Of one poor woman's violent end.…

  • Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

    Scott Pilgrim vs. the World


    Scott Pilgrim Vs The World is probably a bad movie. It's got all the superficial stylistic accoutrements that a phony baloney soulless junkheap like Babydriver has.

    But it is also a movie that, even though it sucks, mostly just highlights how badly a charm vaccuum like Ansel Elgort harms an already problematically crap movie.

    Don't hire Ansel!

    Scott Pilgrim is, of course, still shit. But it is also anchored by a charmingly awkward performance by Michael Cera, that offsets pure hatred. And this is the difference.

    So I don't hate it. I still would never want to invite it back into my house again though.

  • Evilspeak



    There is a scene in "The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz" where Richard Dreyfus looks at his cock in the bathtub and proudly shouts out "It floats"!

    I've now learned, so does Clint Howard.

    Both images will haunt my nightmares forever.

  • Skinamarink



    Even though I make it very clear I prefer to watch them alone, film for me is an extremely communal experience. Somehow, they make me feel connected with a world I usually don't feel terribly connected to. For a couple of hours they make me feel tethered to the same ground as everyone else. Whether for good or bad, film makes me believe in a world outside of my door.

    Until now. Never before has a film made me feel…

  • I Will Walk Like a Crazy Horse

    I Will Walk Like a Crazy Horse


    There is always a bit of a child in the best kind of provocations. Or at least there should be. Whether purely exploitative, or tilting towards the surreal, it's all about the joy of putting a thumb in the eye of the squares. The people who want you to behave. Who only have answers and no questions. Just enough pressure applied to get them screaming from the room so you then can fall on the floor and roll around and…

  • Who's Who

    Who's Who


    This is niche stuff, even for Mike Leigh's predominantly nichey British working class ouvre (sp). And this one doesn't even dare to be working class. This is his 80's fop territory. But still good!

    His television work is extremely character driven, generally has the most basic of premises as a working plot (in this case a dinner party), and let's his characters just be themselves.Then the movie will end and you feel as if you've been pushed out of a…

  • Fruits of Passion

    Fruits of Passion


    I keep trying to remember what actually happened in this movie, and every time all I can see is Klaus Kinski's butthole.

  • The Velvet Underground

    The Velvet Underground


    Does everything absolutely perfectly right, aside from not somehow figuring out a way to never end. But maybe truncating its running time to mortal lengths is important for it to zero in as wonderfully as it does on what is essential about the legacy of this band. Not getting lost in the weeds of every story where Lou Reed asks someone to shit on him. Not having a bunch of talking heads reading from the footnotes of some lame gushing…

  • Summer 1993

    Summer 1993


    One of the great films at articulating both the dream like essence of childhood as well as the sneaking hell that is grief. Our main character is borderline inarticulate, but is always watching. Is always trying to understand the world around her. Is taking everything in, even as it becomes clear her small world has become impossibly damaged.

    As for the grief, it just lays in the heart of the film like a kidney stone, waiting to be passed.


  • Gummo



    I kept having things remind me of this movie so something was telling me to revisit it. It's been maybe twenty years. Twenty years since this movie angered me and confused me and made me fall in love with it. And it turns out that twenty years was clearly a pittance in dulling Gummo's blade. This movie is still a son of a bitch.

    It is still profoundly upsetting. Deliberately pretentious. Still stinks of being a giant **** you to…