(June)
a mumbly pop-damaged nightmare that slides right next to Cat Sick Blues in the fatalistic feline fixation category.
shot back-to-back with Cohen's snuffsploitation menacer Special Effects, both films examining a much more tense, bleak, and seedy underside to Cohen's universe. feel like Look Who's Talking might have some 'splainin to do.
if The Wizard was directed by Trent Harris and punched up by John McNaughton, it might resemble this film.
a spread collective of violence-driven a-holes collide in a localized endgame that only Barry (Things, Wicked World) Gillis could assemble.
the opening salvo of Deodato Cannibal trilogy does more than merely hint at the unrelenting carnage that lies ahead, but still somehow leaves the viewer ill-prepared for just exactly how much this shit is going to hurt.
forced prostitutes tattooed into compliant geisha endlessly subjected to humiliations and brutalities in glorious technicolor.
much has been articulated about the gripping devastation this film rolls out before the audience, and none of those words can even begin to replicate just how hard this film goes not only visually, but mentally and emotionally. just... come and see.
i think they might've fucked up not titling this film DEAD ASS: THE ASS THAT EATS.
the most fun i've had watching a machete uprising since the last time i watched a machete uprising.
a deeply considered, achingly thoughtful study of perhaps the most criminally under-examined songwriter of all time; one that matches the gorgeous devastation of both his words and noise.
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