it's harsh. there's not really much point, except the cruelty is the point. every character has the same classic fatal flaw of only striking the villain once, which got repetitive. the structure did something kinda inventive. I need to go to sleep, but I also need to not think about that sawing in half scene for a while, or that dance with the scalp and the sliced off boobs, so I guess it's gonna be vicar of dibly and cardigans until two am. fucking mime.
I got all excited during the girls' basketball scene (SAUCY WINK FACE) because I was like sweet they are introducing their athletic prowess (u perv) so I figured there might be some cool fight scenes that take the killer by surprise but nah not really. the killer's 'I love you the most' speech made an impact, he suddenly became entertaining. wish he had more screentime to vamp it up.
Pure revolution. My gratitude that this person exists, now, in this moment, is healing. That's the power of what she's created. Thoughts I never knew how to say out loud without crumpling echoed throughout her show. I wrote once to a friend after one of the most dangerous nights I've ever had that I was telling everyone around me the story as a punchline because I had no idea how else to tell it. I never reckoned with that, because how?
Hannah knows how. I have very few words to explain what that bravery means to me.
Stories and films about resistance fighters are often lit to the core with hope. But more than anything, I came away from this film with the thought that inherent to heroism is facing insurmountable futility. They were just people, small and human and afraid, fighting a beast that was so huge and powerful and strong they could hardly survive, hardly even be noble, let alone actually wound the enemy.
And they couldn't know how the fight would end.