Adam Sandler and Vanilla Ice each wearing one ear of a pair of headphones, falling down a hill. Majesty. A New Kids on the Block back tattoo, but warped by time and shameless fat jokes. “It will replenish him. It will replenish him!” Miracles. From here we go sublime—for one blissful moment we are Schneider-less.
She lays out dress after dress for mourning, seemingly all the clothes she wears are for the purpose of mourning, and I'm taken aback by all the colors.
Later we watch he watch Black Girl, maybe only the second movie she's ever seen. 'Run away, girl,' she jokes to the woman working for a white family. We don't see how she reacts when she realizes that the girl 'does' run away. Instead, we watch her watching her grandson being fed. She says she is happy.
I have been asked by the PR company to take down the review due to an embargo they only just now informed me is in effect.
EDIT -- Embargo up, here was my original review:
As redolent of pee and poop as Hard to Be a God; as miserable and creeping as The Death of Louis XIV; very grotesque and dumb. Somehow there is no joy to be had in watching Al Capone in a diaper, smoking a carrot, mowing…
You can’t come into something like this expecting anything but the absolute dumbest of politics, just baby-brained dipshittery, just the worst imperial neolib garbage shat out by fucking Amazon of anyone, but man oh man the action scenes in this are just aces. Sollima doesn’t seem to have a visually creative bone in his body, but he compensates with exquisitely empirical setpieces shot with little cuts and beautiful clarity. Just the build-up to the prison scene alone: I said “bad ass” aloud to no one in my basement—which is how we all die: alone in our basement.