Venom ★★★★★

to see is to idealize; to abstract and to extract, to read and to choose, to transform. on screen, we see what the camera has already seen: a double transformation, or rather, because it is thus multiplied, a vision squared. a choice within a choice, a reflection of a reflection. here, beauty is polarized like light; it is the beauty of a second generation, a daughter, but a daughter born before its time from its mother whom we love with our naked eye. it is a slightly monstrous daughter—that's why the cinema is psychic, it presents us with a quintessence, a product twice distilled. the symbiote's psychic phenomenology of perception and transcendental empiricism dismantle epistemological systems that are grounded in non-corporeal acts of signification or cognition. the drive to determine a clear dividing line between subject and world, perceiver and perceived, objective reality and subjective experience, is equally suspected and accordingly undermined by fleischer's (almost egregiously) palatable direction, which conceptually warps itself into a poignant undertaking on symbiosis. in the continuity of human body and world that this narrative proposes, a sensational and affective approximation to the world replaces the purely mental and visual methods of the disembodied principle establishing the existence of a being from the fact of its thinking or awareness. like the return of a sound distorted by echo, and like the monstrous refraction of eddie's violence subtended beneath the symbiote's worldly figuration of destruction, the cinema image here is an experiential transfer providing a return of the real beyond the scope of human limitation. to see the cinema image is not simply to "see" the world—rather, it is to see it by way of technological mediation across distance, hence by way of a return that frames the modern technological sublime as also a relation to pastness, to history. in this the film finds itself in close harmony with the works of brakhage, keaton and perhaps even minnelli, by insisting on both the internally retrospective structure and irreversible historicity of cinema's auratic consciousness. but those niggas never had awfully hot coffee-pot era eminem on the soundtrack sooo🤷🏿‍♂️

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