Gummo ★★★★

Life is great. Without it, you'd be dead.

This is fire. Harmony Korine's Gummo is an extra-large mouthful of white-trash and blatantly American imagery. Whether it's the bacon taped to the tile wall, a gay black midget turning down Korine's drunken advances, some insecure rednecks destroying their kitchen, or pretty much any other portrait drawn in this film, it is sure to stick with you.

The moment that struck me the most as being undeniably genius, happened in the bathtub. This scene is perhaps the most talked over one of the film, but I don't know who else was dumbfounded at the exact moment as I. When Solomon fucking drops a crunch bar in his murky ass bath water, and then goes on to eat the damn thing in the middle of his spaghetti dinner, with shampoo in his hair?? -- This shit is just too much for me. I couldn't help but cringe. And for that, I love Harmony Korine.

He is the mind that brought us Spring Breakers, and Kids before it. I don't understand how exactly he has yet to be universally heralded as a genius, but many have yet to understand art. Thus is life.

Gummo is a masterpiece of unsettling cinema. A horror film in its own right, it tells infinite stories in its respectably small runtime. Moments drenched in slurred speech and dulled senses are comic in nature, but horrific are those that feature the children. Oh the children, grown up too damn fast.

And is that not the story that Harmony Korine loves to tell? The man is obsessed with children mature beyond their years. Thus is the obsession of a pedophile, or a genius. You decide. Either way, he did it with Spring Breakers, he did it with Kids, and he done did it with fucking Gummo.

Fucking Gummo.

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