Tuesday, December 24, 2013
We are the Sprocket Holes vol. 208
FEARNET: Best Unreleased Films of 2013
most of these look pretty amazing.... proof positive that while Hollywood Horror limps its way in and out of the multiplexes, the real power comes from the global cinema underground.
most of these look pretty amazing.... proof positive that while Hollywood Horror limps its way in and out of the multiplexes, the real power comes from the global cinema underground.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
It's a Funny World We Live In. vol. 26
'We'd like to knock him around his prison cell': Parents of paedophile Ian Watkins speak of their anger after son is jailed for 35 years
Ian Watkins says he will go down in history as a rock god but admits he won't get out of jail alive
court documents
Ian Watkins will be considered 'God' by fellow prisoners, warns wrongly convicted man who spent 11 years in jail
Ian Watkins: Police investigating TWO MORE women who offered babies to paedophile rocker
Ian Watkins still raking in cash from his Made In Hell fashion label despite being jailed
Ian Watkins: 'Megalolz' T-shirts sell out as Lostprophets fans snap up merchandise despite horrific child sex crimes
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
We are the Sprocket Holes vol. 207: Top 10 DVD releases of 2013 that i forgot to review earlier
it was quite a year for films, it really was. by wanking dismissively at what the Marvel Movie Monopoly was selling and fully embracing the ruthlessly despised Kick Ass 2, i truly found myself on the outs with the tiresome "geek" community, and i really don't mind to be honest. i'll take guys and girls in flea market fetish gear chopping each other up over some worn out "WAR ON TERROR IS GOOD NO WAIT IT ISN'T YAH IS SO" allegory.
anyway, i've come to really hate writing movie reviews, even small ones, cause it's just exhausting and counter productive. but i still watch tons of shit, and get excited about tons of shit to come. i widdled it all down to these 10 films that came out on DVD this year. in alphabetical order;
ABCs OF DEATH
this just covered so much ground with so many amazing talents. even if a segment sucked, it would only be like 2 minutes long, so who cares? one of the great delights i had in talking films this year was "trading favorites" with regards to this movie. great party stuff. something for everyone... if everyone likes people getting killed.
AMERICAN MARY
the mighty Soskas (Dead Hooker in a Trunk) step it up in terms of visual sensibilities and character drama with this charmingly grisly study of all the colors of modification.
HOLY MOTORS
experience and personality shift with costume changes, coalescing into a narrative that's too stream of conscious to be called a mash-up.
MANBORG
if you're around my age, you might remember walking through the genre sections of your local video store, imagining with playtime detail what sort of toyetic insanity lies beyond the gloriously colorful artwork on the VHS box covers. more often then not, the movies themselves never even came close to matching the promise of the promotional art. MANBORG actually does. pure joy.
MANIAC
it's not just a startlingly respectful update of the undeniable grindhouse classic from William Lusting and Joe Spinell, it's a startlingly respectful update of the genre that spawned the original and everything that came after. it's all here; the lush cinematography, the gorgeous people, the sadistic violence, the perverse voyeurism, the beautifully sinister score, the artful misanthropy... everything i love in 1970s/80s horror that went missing in all but a few since the 90s. bring it all back now.
ONLY GOD FORGIVES
pretty much everything i said above can be applied to Nicolas Winding Refn's latest, taking all that i find good and true to even greater depths of a-narration and bewitching surrealism (even going as far as to thank Alejandro Jodorowsky before the final credits roll).
PIETA
the Korean master of unbridled human misery Kim Ki Duk (the Isle, Bad Guy) hits our shores with this bizarre slice of family dysfunction. one of the many winners from DRAFTHOUSE FILMS.
THE RAMBLER
Calvin Reeder (he of the equally strange Oregonian) makes his semi-mainstream debut with what may be the weirdest damn thing i've seen all year. somewhere between Refn's Bronson and Quentin Duplex's Wrong maybe? i dunno... just don't compare it to David Lynch or the Cohen Bros. please.
UPSTREAM COLOR
i think this one made a lot "most pretentious film of the year" lists, but what the fuck do any of you know? you made Grown Ups 2 one of the highest grossing movies of the year. you think the Hannibal tv show is thought provoking. anyway, i found a lot to like about Shane Carruth's slippery mind game. needs another viewing soon.
VANISHING WAVES
this Lithuanian curiosity from Kristina Buozyte draws such visual, emotional, and narrative breaths from a single focus, that focus being obsession. it's amazing to think about, when so many other films are packed with various themes that often lead to nothing even close to resembling depth. one of the many gems from the incomparable ARTSPLOITATION.
anyway, i've come to really hate writing movie reviews, even small ones, cause it's just exhausting and counter productive. but i still watch tons of shit, and get excited about tons of shit to come. i widdled it all down to these 10 films that came out on DVD this year. in alphabetical order;
ABCs OF DEATH
this just covered so much ground with so many amazing talents. even if a segment sucked, it would only be like 2 minutes long, so who cares? one of the great delights i had in talking films this year was "trading favorites" with regards to this movie. great party stuff. something for everyone... if everyone likes people getting killed.
AMERICAN MARY
the mighty Soskas (Dead Hooker in a Trunk) step it up in terms of visual sensibilities and character drama with this charmingly grisly study of all the colors of modification.
HOLY MOTORS
experience and personality shift with costume changes, coalescing into a narrative that's too stream of conscious to be called a mash-up.
MANBORG
if you're around my age, you might remember walking through the genre sections of your local video store, imagining with playtime detail what sort of toyetic insanity lies beyond the gloriously colorful artwork on the VHS box covers. more often then not, the movies themselves never even came close to matching the promise of the promotional art. MANBORG actually does. pure joy.
MANIAC
it's not just a startlingly respectful update of the undeniable grindhouse classic from William Lusting and Joe Spinell, it's a startlingly respectful update of the genre that spawned the original and everything that came after. it's all here; the lush cinematography, the gorgeous people, the sadistic violence, the perverse voyeurism, the beautifully sinister score, the artful misanthropy... everything i love in 1970s/80s horror that went missing in all but a few since the 90s. bring it all back now.
ONLY GOD FORGIVES
pretty much everything i said above can be applied to Nicolas Winding Refn's latest, taking all that i find good and true to even greater depths of a-narration and bewitching surrealism (even going as far as to thank Alejandro Jodorowsky before the final credits roll).
PIETA
the Korean master of unbridled human misery Kim Ki Duk (the Isle, Bad Guy) hits our shores with this bizarre slice of family dysfunction. one of the many winners from DRAFTHOUSE FILMS.
THE RAMBLER
Calvin Reeder (he of the equally strange Oregonian) makes his semi-mainstream debut with what may be the weirdest damn thing i've seen all year. somewhere between Refn's Bronson and Quentin Duplex's Wrong maybe? i dunno... just don't compare it to David Lynch or the Cohen Bros. please.
UPSTREAM COLOR
i think this one made a lot "most pretentious film of the year" lists, but what the fuck do any of you know? you made Grown Ups 2 one of the highest grossing movies of the year. you think the Hannibal tv show is thought provoking. anyway, i found a lot to like about Shane Carruth's slippery mind game. needs another viewing soon.
VANISHING WAVES
this Lithuanian curiosity from Kristina Buozyte draws such visual, emotional, and narrative breaths from a single focus, that focus being obsession. it's amazing to think about, when so many other films are packed with various themes that often lead to nothing even close to resembling depth. one of the many gems from the incomparable ARTSPLOITATION.
Monday, December 9, 2013
It's a Funny World We Live In vol. 25
Daycare owner 'beat girl, 3, to death after toddler's stripper mother did not pick her up for weeks'
- Ryan Reed 'stomped on Savannah Cross' stomach while she was in his care'
- He 'ignored her groans throughout the night' and she died the next day
- He 'previously beat her as fellow daycare owner looked on and did nothing'
- Girl's mother had not picked up her daughter since Thanksgiving
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2247567/Savannah-Cross-Daycare-owner-stomped-girl-3-death-toddlers-stripper-mother-abandoned-weeks.html#ixzz2n1azUY00
Follow us: @MailOnline on Twitter | DailyMail on Facebook
Friday, November 29, 2013
It's a Funny World We Live In vol. 24
Ian Watkins' ex-girlfriend: I warned police Lostprophets singer was a dangerous paedophile
if you don't remember Lostprophets (and you don't), they were this ultra-tacky Gen-Y band that blended basest of the base elements of 3rd tier nu-metal and 4th tier screamo into a putrid form of neo-rock that sounds like something you might've heard in a promo for Heroes in 2006. the first record sounded like P.O.D. with someone doing Mike Patton karaoke through his nose. later they "evolved" into a wretched hybrid of the Used and Incubus (Incusedbus?). then nothing.anygay, turns out the frontman for these jamokes (provider of said Mike Patton through the Nose brocals) is a pedophile. and not some schlubby chatroom doofus getting verbally picked off by professional dicksnak Chris Hansen, but the kind of maternity ward cruising sadist that populates the Peter Sotos library.
TIME article here
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Sunday, November 3, 2013
THE COMMUNION MINITOUR 2013
The Communion (NYC)/Crushed Velvet/Forced Opinion/Trees @ BARRIO (FREE)
Black Goat of The Woods, The Communion, Bogrot, Boddicker, TBA @ Albion House
THE COMMUNION / TRIAC / GENOCIDE PACT / SOKUSHINBUTSU - NOV 10 @ THE CROWN
will post the page for Lima OH w/ PIZZA HI-FIVE when it goes up
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Awwww Yeah (?) vol. 17
Dinosaur Erotica Exists and It's Just as Amazing as You'd Imagine
Azog stood, back to the wall, clad only in damp buckskins, waiting for the beast to slash at her torso until she lay helpless and bleeding on the damp cave floor. She wondered if it would kill her first, or if her limbs would be sliced from her body as the beast gorged on her.
Instead, it reached out with a classed hand to snatch at her damp animal hide as it clung to one shoulder. Azog felt the kiss of sharp claws against her skin as the hide slid from her shoulder and exposed on naked, heaving breast. The raptor paused, curious, sniffing at her as she pressed desperately against the wall.
A reptilian tongue, stiff and hot, dashed out to lick at the tender, naked flesh so suddenly exposed. Azog gasped at the touch, then gradually relaxed as her body warmed to the intoxicating sensation of the beast's flesh against her own.
She wasn't sure if her sudden arousal was because of her earlier thwarted climax in the cool stream, or if she was just desperate for one last pleasant sensation before being torn limb from limb by the great, scaly beast. Either way, Azog relished the rasp of its tongue, hot and rough, on her sensitive skin.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Saturday, August 31, 2013
It's a Funny World We Live In vol. 20
Stephen Tari called himself 'the true Christ' and had previously been accused of raping, murdering and eating young girls
Sunday, August 18, 2013
NERRRRRRRRRD! vol. 41
Start talking, Fuck-Knuckle: way too many thoughts revolving around Kick-Ass 2.
bring on Kick-Ass 3.
Patrolling on the brick wall that
separates Spider-Man’s NYC and Hobo with a Shotgun’s Scumtown is Kick-Ass 2, a super-hero film for the
midnight movie faithful, a Tromaville splatter-comedy revenge epic with A-List
backing, the Tick vs. Maniac Cop, the
Super-Friends as re-imagined by the Murder Junkies, playing make believe with
spastics and sociopaths…. Hell, just call it one cocksucker of a
good time at the movies. Remember having those? Before every asbestos-wheezing
gasbag would spoil your fun via lazily ranting through a keyboard, not so much
angry because the entertainment was less-than-stellar as they are infuriated
that they had to leave the house for a few hours and be around people (previous
sentence only done with the faintest hint of self mockery… ok, a lot of it)? or before this new wave of outrage began
punctuating the expression of opinion? I’d say its level has reached parodic,
but the self-righteous indignation is so un-entertainingly callow that it
surpasses spoof and glides comfortably into cryptofacist hate-speech. It’s why
you see insufferable blog posts bemoaning the existence of Robin Thicke’s
“Blurred Lines”, a benign nudie-cutie charmer, densely accusing the song and
its accompanying video of being recruitment tools for misogynistic
objectification, causally promoting the thriving continuity of a pop culture
rape machine through a wink-wink-nudge-nudge-say-no-more mock-dismissal of such
a system’s existence.
It really shouldn’t surprise me at
this point, but I’m still perplexed that here we are, 13 years deep into a new
millennium, and we still have people fainting from appall when faced with
violence or sex being presented in a creative environment. I wonder if its just
an opportunity for certain types to condescend to supposed moral sensitivities,
deluding themselves into the idea that they’re less prone to reptilian impulses
than those of us who dare to find value in what the popular conscious has
deemed objectionable, judging a work that is deliberate in its unpleasantness
for achieving its goal. They call its acts/message “pointless”, when really
it’s their tangential disgust that’s pointless, because while not entirely
without provocation, it’s barren of interpersonal substance beyond the
emotional misnomer that being outraged is synonymous with being humane, that
they’ve achieved some sort of ultra-enlightenment that grants them the wisdom
and the strength to rise above their baser instincts.
Make no mistake; KA2 is a violent film, more than equal to
its predecessor, yet still more than a few pints shy of the blood-drenched
anti-chicanery present in its four-color counterpart. Don’t let the critics
fool you, if you’ve read the comic, you know how much more vicious it could
have been. And for the rest, trust me, you have seen A LOT worse. Other than
that and a few other details, a generous helping of the comic has made it to
the film, with some further character-play and breezy comedy peppered in to
keep the affair a charming thrift shop version of the Masters of Evil
destroying the Avengers’ mansion rather than an Infinity Gauntlet Red Wedding.
Playing off of the
Dark Knight theory of escalation, KA2 ramps up the menace a few hundred
notches, with armies of people in funny costumes with silly names making the world
all their own. It’s the sort of group of heroes vs. conglomerate of villains
war story that never not works in comics, yet somehow never seems to make it to
the cinematic adaptations. How much cooler would Avengers had been if instead
of fighting non-descript alien invaders, the team had fought an
equal-to-greater alliance of their greatest adversaries? All that history,
personality, and character definition as each of them faced off against their
opposite number? Where the “big two” slack, KA2 runs full throttle into the
battle of good vs. evil, making it matter. It also doesn’t forget about the
fundamental absurdity of masked vigilantes/costumed villains or the ruthless
surrealism of their hyper-dramatic clashes. It short, it’s not all grimly
serious and gritty business here. While the chaos of the KA universe (comic and
film) is brutal and not without consequence, it follows that with a message of
“yeah, it’s not always gonna be a slap fight with a bad-guy wrestler, but if
we’re gonna do this, then we’re gonna do it all, because that’s the only way
our cause will truly mean anything… so stop your fucking whining and suit up”.
And isn’t that really what being a super-hero is about?
Perhaps this is no better illustrated than in the character
of Hit-Girl, the closest thing the KA universe has to a conscious. The first
act of the film, drawing from the Hit-Girl
micro-series, makes the same point as its source material without beating
it into your head that its making that point; that Mindy McCready (wondrously
embodied by Chloe Grace Moretz) is everything not only a comic book hero (male
or female, adult or child) should be, but at her essence, her center, she is
perhaps the most positive role model (again, not constrained to gender) to come
along in the medium in a long time. Yes, she kills people. Yes, she has a potty
mouth. Yes, she wouldn’t have voted for President Obama (had she been voting
age), but she is also determined, resilient, loyal, intelligent, fully capable
of taking care of herself, and knows exactly who she is and what she’s about.
Also, unlike some other lady heroes (some of whom appear in this film); her
costume is functional rather than revealingly sexualized…. Not that there’s
anything wrong with the latter AMIRITEDURHUR. Anyway, even when the customs of
tween hierarchy dictate to girls that they’re supposed to value overpriced
accessories, glib vapidness, and their appeal/dependence on boys as a form of
self-validation, Mindy McCready understands that it’s more important to pay
attention the your surroundings, to have a plan, and that, borrowing a line
from Frank Millers the Dark Knight
Returns, the world will only make sense when you force it to do so. Now,
I’m suggesting that the total of one’s morals be taken entirely from comic books
down to minutia (don’t kill people or get behind cowboy conservatives who
haven’t really fought a day in their lives), but the basic essence of that
ideological structure can act as a skeleton for your own moral architecture….
But then again, the series also shows you how fucked-up and dangerous it is to
get your morals from comic books, creating a dystopic atmosphere of reckless
endangerment with an ouroboros of payback; a devour/defecate clockwork orgy
where the battle is owed more to callous routine than sympathetic instigation…
but let’s chill for a minute here.
That a film this colorfully offbeat
and less-than-gun-shy found itself a wide release in 2013 is a success all its
own. we’re in a time right now where it seems like a work that’s daringly eccentric
or even marginally transgressive struggles to make a 2 day go of it at some
run-down art theater on the outskirts of civilization before being dumped
unceremoniously onto various home viewing outlets, because multiplexes are more
preoccupied with showcasing struggling, bloated turkeys like the Lone Ranger than providing a decent
venue for something like Only God
Forgives, a film that might not fit the textbook definition of “crowd
pleaser”, but no doubt packs a more memorable, long lasting punch than Johnny
Depp playing Powderface Funnyhat for the 857th go-round.
I can’t believe this needs to be
said, but KA2 is not what’s wrong with films, let alone society. It’s a satire,
one that works as a candy colored exaggeration of real world violence and as a
sobering reality check for cartoon violence. If choreographed carnage,
ambiguous shifts in morality, and playful profanity will only further bruise
your tenderized soul, take in a screening of the Butler instead. There you can weep along with
the weep-along, placate your white-guilt, assure yourself that everything is
better now, and rock your gentle self to sleep as a compilation of whale songs
hums at low volume, all the while whispering “this too will pass” into the
tummy of your stuffed spirit animal. If your comic habits revolve around the
latest Green Lantern x-over event, if your viewing habits are exclusively
dependent upon the Walt Disney Fantasy Film Monopoly, than KA was never meant
for you. If you love films, comics, and films based on comics, but have grown
tired of all their overwrought symbolism, hackish video game conflicts, murky
humanism, and assembly-line-formulaic structure, than consider KA2 your
consolation prize for trudging through the Wolverines, the Men of Steel, and
any other high-calorie-no-nutrition mid-octane sludge begging for your
entertainment dollar this (or any) summer. It fucking delivers what it fucking
promises.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Saturday, July 13, 2013
We are the Sprocket Holes vol. 206
PACIFIC RIM and the golden age of Action Figure Cinema.
what is Action Figure cinema, you ask?
what is Action Figure cinema, you ask?
Films that successfully recreate the blissfully apocalyptic
landscape of a young boy’s imagination as he strings together a weekend
afternoon narrative drawing in any and all playthings at his disposal,
displaying an infectious carelessness with regards to their intended relation
to one another. Robocop and Swamp Thing will ride dragons to take on the
Shredder’s army of Inhumanoids for the fate of Thundara… that sort of toy chest
Mad Lib opens up an expansively rich universe, so creatively pregnant and
removed from predictability, which acts as the germ for the increasing handfuls
of entertainment on the high and low ends of the creative spectrum. MANBORG,
FRANKENSTEIN’S ARMY, the comic/upcoming animated series AXE COP; Most of these
have snugly been embraced by cult fans across the globe, but Guilermo Del
Toro’s PACIFIC RIM is the first to truly capture this aesthetic vastness on a
near-incalculably large scale.
The story is simple: a transdimensional rift in the pacific
ocean enables Kaiju (a Japanese term meaning “strange beast”) to enter our
world, where they level pretty much anything in their path. In order to combat
the monsters, the nations of the world unite to construct Jaegers;
Skyscraper-size Mechs piloted by two via a neurological link. For awhile, the
Jaegers are successful, until bigger and deadlier Kaiju make their way to the
surface. That’s where the story picks up.
Some have written the film off as a Monsters vs. Robots
punchfest with little in the way of story or character. These people either
haven’t seen the film, or they haven’t seen the film. All we need to know about
each character is established pretty much as soon as we meet them; a Kaiju
attack survivor who is seeking vengeance, a Scientist who is also a Kaiju
enthusiast, a shady black market dealer of decontaminated Kaiju parts, a
retired Jaeger pilot who lost his brother during a fight with a Kaiju… their
motivations are clear and consistent, and much of the soul these characters
posses is revealed in wordless gestures rather than didactic declarations or
convoluted symbolism. The fights are cool as cool can cool, but there is no
“Awwwww YEAH!” posturing, nor any lunkhead one-liners; it’s a big fucking thing
doing everything in its power to stop another big fucking thing. There is much
shown of both the construction of the Jaegers and the biology of the Kaiju, and
how they’re both evolving to combat their respective menace, and you can feel
the weight of every touchdown. There in lies the multiplying genius of Del
Toro’s work; whether it’s probing art-horror like THE DEVIL’S BACKBONE or
freeplay escapisim like PACIFIC RIM; a rich surface doesn’t conceal depth, it
informs it, spawning an intricate universe where nothing is superfluous.
Where the GI JOE and TRANSFORMERS adaptations were
aggressively tepid and contemptuously joyless, PACIFIC RIM is bewitchingly
graceful and undeniably welcoming; a labor of love so unconditional it crosses
over into pop-artful psychedelia, a relieving antidote to the bleakly explosive
bombardment of self-glowering post 9-11 fear-bait that has regretfully become
the primary driving force behind many contemporary blockbusters, where thrill
seeking escapists are made to feel guilty by the peddlers of their fix. No such
hypocrisy can be found in PACIFIC RIM. No jingoistic pandering, no bad jokes
about Kaiju genitals (though their excrement is mentioned in passing, it is
done in such a brief way that it doesn’t feel like forced gross-out humor), the
Kaiju and the Jaegers simultaneously invoke fear and awe, commanding our
respect and attention.
As for the unfortunately inevitable “haters”, well if you
find anything offensive about this film, you must have been molested with a
Godzilla doll while Ultraman watched or something. To find fault in PACIFIC RIM
is like lamenting a 15 minute eye contact heavy ass-in-the-air hummer from
Amber Heard because the long licking/whispery dirty talk combo between imbibes
made you cum too hard. I understand it’s the internet era and we’re supposed to
display nothing but contrarian vitriol with regards to anything that might
bring forth a modicum of excitement to our otherwise unremarkable routines, but
the whole “NERD RAGE” hand is beyond played at this point. i get it; you know
everything about everything, posses a labyrinthine wealth of genre knowledge,
and should act as a consultant for every single “geek” project under the sun,
cause everyone knows you can do it better than the people who spend YEARS of
their time, dedication, finances, and passion actualizing the material that has
brought them so much emotional satisfaction and spiritual pleasantry. Please,
do pick apart the minute flaws in this colossally gorgeous work, because in the
end it’s YOUR sneeringly vicious needlessly opinionated blog post people will
come to remember and revere, and not the monument to engrossing spectacle that
carries with it the strength to unlock our own creative possibilities.
you're a dick, is what i'm getting at here.
go see this big fucking thing so the other big fucking thing (GROWN UPS 2) doesn't survive.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
NERRRRRRRRRRD! vol. 40
The Mandarin: 'Iron Man 3' does WHAT to Tony Stark's nemesis? -- SPOILER ANALYSIS
really good read on this whole fiasco that has us all in a tizzle.
i'm also sad that we didn't get a racist Asian stereotype with Captain Planet rings, but at least they gave us something, and that it kinda made sense... well comic book sense, but that's better than no sense at all.
i was pissed off at the reveal as i was watching it unfold, but the more i thought about it, the more i became accepting of the change, maybe because they actually put some effort into making it work. much like the fusion of Crimson Dynamo and Whiplash formed Mickey Rourke's Ivan Vanko in the 2nd IM film, 2 sort-of silly characters were fused into a super-villain that was visually impressive and an actual character. i didn't care for Rourke in 2, but still there was something there, and there's something here, too.
the article says it better.
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
We are the Sprocket Holes vol. 205
R.I.P. Jess Franco
i don't remember exactly when i first saw a Jess Franco film, or even which film of his i did see first. maybe that's because of the way Franco's films play... their movement and language being that of a dream; following it by the narrative (if indeed there is any)is almost beyond fruitless, and after it's over, your reccolection of the events is hazy and jumbled... but certain moments, characters, images are seized by your memory, to be played in a warping loop, whether they are deliberately paced terror, unraveling kink, maniacal surrealism, or all of the above. you don't watch a Franco film for an easy scare or juvenile gorehound kicks. fans of mediocre jock horror, with its charmless direction, boilerplate writing, artless production design, cynical attempts at bland humanism, overbearing exposition that insultingly obvious, and glitchy music video editing that's less a technique than it is a failed style, can just keep their Netflix stream of the Collection and remain ignorant in their dismissals. Franco's films are less exploitative escapism and more unrestrained examinations of the ID's wilding pathologies. a place where Gothic Horror iconography and European Literary Decadence take part in a conjoint filtration of their essence, their shared perversity distilled into a fevered crawl of nightmarish eroticism.trailer for FACELESS (embedding disabled cause fuck me, right?)
Blue Underground, Shriek Show, Anchor Bay, and others have many of Franco's films released in gorgeous editions. look for them. fuck streaming.
RIP.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
We are the Sprocket Holes vol. 204
a free-floating look at Harmony Korine's Spring Breakers
though the year is still young, this could be the ballsiest film of 2013. it would've been transgressive enough having the gigging lunatic behind this directing a beach party movie starring Disney Ch. actresses and scored by Skrillex, but i don't think Korine has it in him to do something that isn't strange, and Spring Breakers fits perfectly among his filmography, the glitz being turned into a darkly comic reflection of its self; a long form music video that subtly exposes every sordid amoral detail of the spring break "culture" in a post Girls Gone Wild world, where a new generation informed by Dub-Step, Grand Theft Auto, and Bang Bros take what in the past were fun-loving MTV shenanigans and mutate it into a neon basked blood-orgy that's too nihilistic to be considered lashing out.
none of this is surprising if you've followed the career path of Harmony Korine, who first courted controversy in 1995 with his script for the Larry Clarke directed Kids, showcasing teenage promiscuity in a post-AIDS NYC, then continued in 1997 with a putrid slice of decaying americana known as Gummo, his directorial debut about the day in the life of the bizarre residents of an economically shattered Ohio suburb (also the first film to use violent black metal on the soundtrack), and went even further down into the sinking cellar with Julian Donkey Boy and the afforlinked Trash Humpers. whether you love or loath him, Korine's vision is all his own, and he hasn't really changed his narrative methods or even the traits of his characters for Spring Breakers. they're bored, aloof, sexually uninhibited... they're just way prettier, prefer Britney Spears to Bethlehem, and are in a sunnier locale.
i don't really feel like examining the film at the moment (i'll check it again on DVD and expand on these thoughts), but i am very happy to see a film that's actually challenging getting a fairly wide release. more later maybe.
though the year is still young, this could be the ballsiest film of 2013. it would've been transgressive enough having the gigging lunatic behind this directing a beach party movie starring Disney Ch. actresses and scored by Skrillex, but i don't think Korine has it in him to do something that isn't strange, and Spring Breakers fits perfectly among his filmography, the glitz being turned into a darkly comic reflection of its self; a long form music video that subtly exposes every sordid amoral detail of the spring break "culture" in a post Girls Gone Wild world, where a new generation informed by Dub-Step, Grand Theft Auto, and Bang Bros take what in the past were fun-loving MTV shenanigans and mutate it into a neon basked blood-orgy that's too nihilistic to be considered lashing out.
none of this is surprising if you've followed the career path of Harmony Korine, who first courted controversy in 1995 with his script for the Larry Clarke directed Kids, showcasing teenage promiscuity in a post-AIDS NYC, then continued in 1997 with a putrid slice of decaying americana known as Gummo, his directorial debut about the day in the life of the bizarre residents of an economically shattered Ohio suburb (also the first film to use violent black metal on the soundtrack), and went even further down into the sinking cellar with Julian Donkey Boy and the afforlinked Trash Humpers. whether you love or loath him, Korine's vision is all his own, and he hasn't really changed his narrative methods or even the traits of his characters for Spring Breakers. they're bored, aloof, sexually uninhibited... they're just way prettier, prefer Britney Spears to Bethlehem, and are in a sunnier locale.
i don't really feel like examining the film at the moment (i'll check it again on DVD and expand on these thoughts), but i am very happy to see a film that's actually challenging getting a fairly wide release. more later maybe.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Friday, February 8, 2013
Fuck YOUR Life vol. 22
We Saw This: Church Whip
so there's this band called Church Whip. they decided to call their tour "Raping the East". this offended a lot of internet punk people to such a degree that some saw fit to slash the tires of their tour van and scrawl "RAPE APOLOGISTS" across the body of the vehicle.
so let me see if i have the selective Hypersensitive Politically Correct Indie Punk Hipster principals correct;
using the word "RAPE" in any context other than a sanctimonious decrying of the act:
YOU'RE A HORRIBLE PERSON WHO NOT ONLY THINKS VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN IS GOOD TIMES, BUT PROBABLY ENGAGES IN VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN YOURSELF. I'M SENSITIVE TO TRAUMA SURVIVORS BECAUSE I'M FEIGNING OUTRAGE OVER THE PERCEIVED INTENTIONS OF A BLACK METAL BAND, AND THAT'S THE ONLY KIND OF AID MY MAXIMUM ROCK AND ROLL SOAKED MIND CAN COMPREHEND.
destroying other people's property, setting them back financially and adding more stress to an already stressful situation:
A-OK! BECAUSE SINCE I'M AN ATTENTION STARVED NARCISSIST WITH NO REAL PROBLEMS OR RESPONSIBILITIES, I CAN'T BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND HOW THE ABOVE SCENARIO WOULD SET ANYONE BACK IN A VERY REAL AND FRUSTRATING WAY. AFTER ALL, THERE ARE REAL ISSUES TO WORRY ABOUT, LIKE THE STUFF MY PROFESSOR TALKED ABOUT WHEN I WAS HALF ASLEEP IN MY POLITICAL SCIENCE ELECTIVE. CHECK OUT MY COMPASSION, YOU RAPECULTURIST!
Friday, January 18, 2013
U.S.A.! U.S.A.! vol. 72
Filmmaker Gets 4 Years for Grossing Out Jurors
Today Ira Isaacs, a self-described "shock artist," was sentenced to four years in federal prison for shocking people a little too much. The FBI describes his crimes:
Evidence presented at trial established that beginning in or about 1999 and continuing until at least 2011, Isaacs, doing business under the name LA. Media, operated numerous websites, through which he advertised and sold obscene videos that he acquired from other people. The obscene videos included a video approximately two hours in length of a female engaging in sex acts involving human bodily waste and a video one hour and 37 minutes in length of a female engaged in sex acts with animals. The evidence presented at trial also established that in approximately 2004, Isaacs began operating under the name Stolen Car Films and made obscene videos in which he instructed women to engage in sexual activity involving human bodily waste.Federal prosecutors had to try Isaacs three times before winning a conviction. According to Morality in Media, Isaacs' sentence "sends a strong message to the porn industry and to the U.S. Department of Justice that the sexual exploitation of women by pornographers is wrong." Yet no one was forced to participate in making these movies, and no one was forced to watch them. Except for the jurors, who took their revenge last April by finding him guilty on five counts of producing and distributing obscenity—which, lest you forget, is still a crime under federal and state laws, although one that has never been clearly defined. In practice, you find out whether you committed it only after you have been arrested and prosecuted.
Isaacs argued that he was an artist, but the jury did not buy it. (A Canadian horror movie maker had better luck with that defense last month, when he was acquitted of illegally combining sex and violence—one of the ways Canada defines obscenity.) It is rather startling that in the year 2013, an American's liberty can still hinge on the utterly subjective aesthetic judgments of 12 randomly selected art critics.
Previous coverage of the Isaacs case here.
fucking disgraceful. complete and utter lack of justice. but you already knew that, and i really don't want to go off on yet another tirade about this.
i would love to know if all these obnoxious blowtards pinching a turd over gun control being a "civil rights violation" feel the same about this? probably not, because we live in a country where we care more about keeping violent mental incompetents armed to the chattering teeth, whining about a violation of their privacy if we out them as being gun-happy to the point of fetishistic psychosis, but the second we receive knowledge of sex happening that isn't the kind of sex we think is happening, LOCK THEM UP FOREVER BECAUSE CHILDREN.
last time i checked, 2 girls 1 cup didn't empty a high capacity magazine into a toddler's face and abdomen.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
We are the Sprocket Holes vol. 203
micro-reviews;
ALPS: 9/10
Yorgos Lanthimos follow-up to the demented Dogtooth doesn’t quite match the
weirdness of its predecessor, but it’s a memorable, original film that tackles
the subject of addiction in a way that’s fresh and unburdened with
brick-in-the-nose obviousness or sadness-porn manipulations.
COMPLIANCE: 10/10
LOL I TROLL YOU
LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL: the Movie. Dramatization
of the prank call that descended into a Pavlovian BDSM meltdown. Just when you
think it’s gonna go all Phone Booth stupid,
with someone swooping in to save the day… you get a mouthful of cock and a fat
bitch on the kind of pathetic power trip only running a fast food joint can
grant you telling you to “stop talking.” Some of us love authority to the point
of naively sadistic dementia, and this film brilliantly illustrates that.
COSMOPOLIS: 8/10
Nice to see Cronenberg getting weird again. I like the novel,
but not that much (as Blake Butler says; “Don DeLio is Chuck Palahniuck with a
dictionary”), but the film was a cool little piece of anti-entertainment that looked pretty and sounded like a play
written by fever dreams and cock gagging. Or something.
JACK AND DIANE: 4/10
Pluh. This could’ve been so cool… an indie horror film about
lesbian teenagers with Quay Brothers animated sequences and the ever-present
threat of a burn-victim werewolf eating your guts in the middle of the night. What
starts out as All Over Me meets Ginger Snaps just turns into a tedious
mumblecore romance where the horror element gets reduced to told-symbolism
rather than a real threat, taking a back seat to the short-sighted naval gazing
of self-involved idiots. Fuck this bullshit. And Ketchup on sushi? Bitch you
gross.
KILLER JOE: 9/10
William Friedkin re-teams with BUG writer Tracey Letts for this southern fried date rape of a
film. Greasy comedy of murder perversions. Letts writes the best third acts
ever.
SILENT NIGHT: 6.5/10
Not a bad remake, but not particularly memorable either. dug the look of Santa. Some
decent acting, good cinematography, pretty mean spirited…just feels like it
ended before it began. still pretty gruesome. Nice little nods here and there to the original films
(GARBAGE DAY), but lacked the strong characters of the first film. No Mother
Superior, No Peace.
SLEEP TIGHT: 10/10
Cannot recommend this enough. Jaume Balaguero (REC 1&2,
some brilliant short films) crafts a merrily misanthropic thriller that serves
as a metaphor for people who go out of their way to make life as miserable as
possible. Life breaks you, and then you lament its passing. We’re fucking
pathetic. Existence is bondage.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
It's a Funny World We Live In vol. 16
On August 27, 2012 two members of the Big Red High School football team
in Steubenville, Ohio – USA were arrested and charged with the rape and
kidnapping of an out of town 16 year old girl that took place on August
11th. At the time of this gang rape, the girl was intoxicated and
unconscious. The victim had been intentionally drugged with a “date
rape” intoxicant. She was photographed and video was taken of her in
this condition, and there is evidence that she was hauled in a comatose
state to multiple parties – and almost certainly raped by more members
of the local
high school football team than just the two players who currently stand
charged. There is even evidence that she was urinated upon during this
hideous assault.
full story here
ask me again why i don't go out very often.
full story here
Michael Colin Nodianos: A
former Big Red baseball player, and clearly an avid and full
participant in the “Rape Crew” – Nadianos was videoed along with several
other students, some of whom appear to be Big Red high school athletes
and perpetrators of this horrible crime. In this explosive video,
Nadianos goes on for over 12 minutes describing the crime in great
detail and confessing to his full participation including raping the
girl at least once himself. In addition, Nadianos implicates several
other members of the “Rape Crew” in the attack. Local law enforcement
had been advised of the existence of this video, but claimed they could
not retrieve it. This video was obtained by the Anonymous Cell “Knight
Sec” and turned over to LocalLeaks. The video was shot so soon after the
attack, that one person present becomes disgusted and actually leaves
to go check on the condition of the victim. It is important to also note
that despite this strong evidence, Nadianos has yet to be arrested or
charged in this brutal attack.
WARNING: This Video Is Extremely Disturbing – Viewer Discretion Is Advised
ask me again why i don't go out very often.
Friday, January 4, 2013
We are the Sprocket Holes vol. 202
TEXAS CHAINSAW Review
Roughly 40 years ago, a filthy little bruiser of a film
called the Texas Chainsaw Massacre left
deep cuts in the landscape of horror cinema that seem like they will never
heal. In the decades that followed, entries in the backward-ass lunatic fuck genre that range from very good , pretty ok, and really fucking bad (also good-bad
and bad-good) have come and gone, and the original film itself spawned one of the most
bizarrely frustrating franchises in genre film history, with sequels and
remakes that not only failed to capture the power and spirit of the original (part 2 being a minor exception), but seem
like they were made by people who had never even seen the original, or if they did they just didn’t understand
anything beyond “big guy w/ chainsaw runs around and cuts up pretty people”.
It’s a new decade, and once again we have a new addition to
this series in the form of the simply titled Texas Chainsaw. While it’s a forgone
conclusion that nothing will ever match the presence of the 1974 original, 2013’s
Chainsaw is at the very least
respectful, and at its very best a meaningful contribution to the continuing
mythology of Newt, Texas’ favorite son; Leatherface, as well as fleshing out
not only the Sawyer family, but the town itself, suggesting that not all
maniacs wear and/or imbibe the skin of their kills.
In this new film, Heather Miller (the gorgeous AlexandraDaddario) discovers that her recently deceased grandmother has left the family
estate in her name. turns out Heather was adopted, and her legal parents
snatched her from her birth mother’s dying arms. See… they were part of a vigilante
lynch mob that set fire the Sawyer family farmhouse in August of 1973, and
Heather’s mother was Loretta Sawyer, sister to the hillbilly cannibal Bar B Q brothers
from the first film, who were all burned alive after Sally Hardesty’s
confession.
… well… not all of
them…
The one constant in all the TCM films has been prot-slasher
Leatherface. In the first film, he’s the frightened infant; the baby in a trio
of ghoulish brothers. In the second film, he’s a bashful prepubescent, teased
about girls he likes and bullied by his more outgoing brothers. In the third film,
he’s the surly teenager; growing his hair out while listening to heavy metal on
his walkman. In the fourth, a gender-confused twenty something. Now it’s been
some time since the events of the first film, and he’s a middle aged shut-in,
much more bitter and skeptical about anyone outside of his circle it’s beyond refreshing to see this, as in the
awful Platinum Dunes films from last decade Leatherface was portrayed as little
more than a scary pro wrestler in a Slipknot mask, but the less said about
those, the better.
Anyway, the film’s first half plays like an effective (if
typical) backwoods slasher, with miserable assholes getting cut up by the
grizzled veteran Leatherface. Once this wraps up, the film really shows its
teeth, delving into family relations, dirty little secrets, and suggesting that
maybe Leatherface isn’t the worst thing to happen to this town. See, Burt
Hartman (played by Paul Rae), the good-ol-boy who led the vigilante lynch mob
back in ’73 is now the mayor of the town, but time has not tempered his
bloodlust with regards to the Sawyer clan, and the discovery that not only is
there a long lost Sawyer girl, but also the reemergence of the gas-powered
spectre that carved up a brutal legacy, has made him want to get the old band
back together and put an end to this once and for all. But Leatherface
remembers who he is as well, and meat will be ground.
But where does this leave Heather? In an interesting
development, instead of joining the “good fight”, she comes to understand that
this is her blood (in a matter of speaking), and oddly enough, once she has all
the pieces, she understands where her cousin (Leatherface) is coming from, and
makes the decision to stand by her family. Maybe I’m being silly, but I found
this not merely perversely moving (although it is), but perfectly reasonable. Everyone
Heather has encountered is a selfish lying asshole. Her best friend and
boyfriend are fucking behind her back. Her adoptive parents are miserable white
trash who don’t seem to think very much of her. Her lawyer Farnsworth
(character actor Richard Riehle, the Jump-to-Conclusions-Mat guy from Office Space) fails to mention that a mongoloid
serial killer is living in the basement of the house willed to her, and the
town mayor wants to kill her for something she not only didn’t do, but had no
knowledge of until the shrieking manchild in the dead skin mask cut up her
shitty friends and chased her around a carnival. Once Leatherface finds out who
Heather really is, he immediately stands by her side, and her him. Sure, he cut
up her friends, but they were shitheads anyway whose friendship was based on a
free ride to mardi gras, so fuck em. At least with Leatherface, you know where
you stand, and he’ll protect you till the bitter end. All you gotta do is keep
him fed.
I’m stunned at how much I actually wound up caring about
these two. Sure, they’re murderers, but they’re the only honest characters in the entire film. They don’t do what they
do for money or sex, and they certainly don’t justify their bloodlust by
evoking scripture (as the vigilante mayor does at the film’s start) while deriving
sick enjoyment from the kill. For Leatherface, it’s what he knows, how he
survives, how he understands whose who and what’s what. Everything Heather has
encountered up to this point in her life has been a lie, but bloodlines never
lie, and she fully embraces that by film’s end.
Keep in mind, It’s not a perfect film. It suffers from leaps
in logic and continuity issues, but no more than any other horror film; nitpicky
pain in the ass stuff that’s prevalent in the history of the genre that
pointing them out is just redundant. It’s gory, misanthropic, offers a fresh take on the long
running story, and has enough genuine weirdness to suggest that the parties involved
have an idea of what made the original film the enduring classic it has become.
Seconds, please.
ADDENDUM:
reviews are in, and they're almost universally awful. while i understand completely, i feel like a lot of people already made up their minds about it before they saw it. obviously, no one will ever capture the essence of the original film. the way it was shot, acted, directed, written... you can't manufacture that kind of hell, and it's foolish to think you're gonna get something even close to that.
the other thing critics and fans seem to believe is that the film is making the Sawyers into heroes. i don't see it that way. what the film is showing you is degrees of brutality. you're not meant to side with the Sawyers, but you're not meant to side with the vigilante lynch mob either. they say they're doing what they're doing out of a sense of biblical justice, but they get a little too much enjoyment out of torching the Sawyers. Revenge is not justice, and even if it was, it not their revenge to have. it's not like TCM 2 when Sally and Franklin's uncle Dennis Hopper wanted the family dead, or in Rob Zombie's Devil's Rejects, when William Forsythe's character seeks to avenge his brother Tom Towles' death at the hands of the Firefly Clan. as far as we know, none of the Sawyer's victims were tied to any member of the vigilantes in any way. i'm not sure if it was the filmmaker's intentions, but it was kind of a nice little stab at the whole "Kill the Killers!" attitude that rears its head whenever its perceived that someone got away with murder. you saw it on Facebook when that party bitch was found not guilty of killing her child, we watch it on goofy-ass Dexter every week. the vigilantes in TC3D are closer to the police officers in Clive Barker's Nightbreed; hate mongering sociopaths who wanna get 'em cus ther dffrnt. granted, the Sawyers kinda deserve it, but in the mind of Leatherface, the "Local Heroes" (as the paper pinned to Leatherface's headboard calls them) also deserve it. it's that theory of Revenge being a kind of emotional Ouroboros (explored in fantastic Korean films like Oldboy, I Saw the Devil, etc); a destructive means to an end, only there is no end. someone kills someone. you kill that person. maybe that person meant something to this other person, and now this other person kills you, and they tell two friends and they tell their friends and so on and so on and so on....
i don't wanna make this film something more than it is. it's an entertaining horror film and a pretty good sequel. it's not as gleefully over-the-top as TCM 2, but unlike 3 and 4 it at least ties into the original in a way that makes sort-of-sense. i will say that if this film takes place in the year of our lord 2013, and Heather was a newborn during the events of the first film (1973), she would be forty years old. now, there are some supremely hot 40 year olds out there, but Alexandra Daddario....
...is a 26 year old who looks like a 19 year old.
...wait... what am i complaining about?
ADDENDUM:
reviews are in, and they're almost universally awful. while i understand completely, i feel like a lot of people already made up their minds about it before they saw it. obviously, no one will ever capture the essence of the original film. the way it was shot, acted, directed, written... you can't manufacture that kind of hell, and it's foolish to think you're gonna get something even close to that.
the other thing critics and fans seem to believe is that the film is making the Sawyers into heroes. i don't see it that way. what the film is showing you is degrees of brutality. you're not meant to side with the Sawyers, but you're not meant to side with the vigilante lynch mob either. they say they're doing what they're doing out of a sense of biblical justice, but they get a little too much enjoyment out of torching the Sawyers. Revenge is not justice, and even if it was, it not their revenge to have. it's not like TCM 2 when Sally and Franklin's uncle Dennis Hopper wanted the family dead, or in Rob Zombie's Devil's Rejects, when William Forsythe's character seeks to avenge his brother Tom Towles' death at the hands of the Firefly Clan. as far as we know, none of the Sawyer's victims were tied to any member of the vigilantes in any way. i'm not sure if it was the filmmaker's intentions, but it was kind of a nice little stab at the whole "Kill the Killers!" attitude that rears its head whenever its perceived that someone got away with murder. you saw it on Facebook when that party bitch was found not guilty of killing her child, we watch it on goofy-ass Dexter every week. the vigilantes in TC3D are closer to the police officers in Clive Barker's Nightbreed; hate mongering sociopaths who wanna get 'em cus ther dffrnt. granted, the Sawyers kinda deserve it, but in the mind of Leatherface, the "Local Heroes" (as the paper pinned to Leatherface's headboard calls them) also deserve it. it's that theory of Revenge being a kind of emotional Ouroboros (explored in fantastic Korean films like Oldboy, I Saw the Devil, etc); a destructive means to an end, only there is no end. someone kills someone. you kill that person. maybe that person meant something to this other person, and now this other person kills you, and they tell two friends and they tell their friends and so on and so on and so on....
i don't wanna make this film something more than it is. it's an entertaining horror film and a pretty good sequel. it's not as gleefully over-the-top as TCM 2, but unlike 3 and 4 it at least ties into the original in a way that makes sort-of-sense. i will say that if this film takes place in the year of our lord 2013, and Heather was a newborn during the events of the first film (1973), she would be forty years old. now, there are some supremely hot 40 year olds out there, but Alexandra Daddario....
...is a 26 year old who looks like a 19 year old.
...wait... what am i complaining about?
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