~ auteur hex girl ~
vhs zoomer, no taste but bad taste, wkw's goth wife
A movie about a big, big problem. The level of shameless intrusiveness into *one* person’s life that is on display with Diana Spencer’s cult of personality rivals that of Red Scare FBI investigations and the amount of footage solely of her that is now being dissected here would be dystopian if it wasn’t right in front of us. Diana looks almost disturbingly exhausted, exactly like someone who was hounded and targeted by everyone in her life, and there’s a grandiose…
A wing nut skittering along pavement. Adam Leon has put in work for the past several years to prove cinéma vérité is alive, healthy, and smoking packs in a London alley, and he's currently three for three. Ditching the clarity of urban romanticism, this is an abstract oil puddle of metropolitan sensations where everyone has lost the plot, loitering and choking on either taxi smog or hemp smoke. The metapsychic ego death of the author and the lambent youth without a social road map. Vanessa Kirby is in a pocket dimension, as are we all. Just something to feel!