The long day's journey into melodramatic chaos. A cartoon of faux soap opera revelations and twists of the tragic variety, pummeling our sweet Divine with turmoil after turmoil. Her performance of Francine - from the reactions to the details between scenarios - is a classroom lesson on situational slapstick. The pratfalls involve domestic horror and alcoholism, even with a pie in the face equivalent. Effortlessly funny and absurd, pre-Adult Swim and out doing Troma. This dive into unbridled insanity goes…
Ripe with an allegory that shifts only to get lost in the chaos. Intimate and gore-filled, it's an evolution of the zombie mythos that doesn't tread old waters, but may or may not make it across the river - so to speak. References issues from AIDS to crime "rehabilitation", and whether or not people are born or made monsters, before devolving into thrilling action and ambiguous resolution. It's creepily poignant, what this movie dredges up and goes for with regards…
Utterly deplorable. Horrid melodrama with a time and setting used only for dramatic exploitation. Nothing new is revealed or anything found within us, just people weeping, bickering, coughing and yelling like Nolan's Batman. When you use green screen, cgi smoke and desaturated lighting to indicate fiery conditions, you're telling me how cheap and uncreative you are. Rushed through to ... make a buck? To capitalize on ... that sweet 9/11 nostalgia we all share? Why was this movie made? It…
A devastating production that's less scary but more tragic than you'd think. It holds back on exposition and meaning, leaving the images and action to speak for themselves. At twenty-four paintings a second, never wasting a sequence, the film is like a Cormac McCarthy cover song if performed by David Lynch. That's a dangerous pairing.
Go in knowing nothing, come out feeling everything.