handcrafted by maryann johanson (human) | 100% free of AIs and algorithms
You wanna know who the killer is? I’ll tell you who the killer is. In fact, there’s two killers: that’s the twist. Director Wes Craven and screenwriter Kevin Williamson worked in tandem here to murder the horror comedy… or at least their own franchise. Not that it wasn’t dead already.
A tire develops sentience. And independent mobility. Be afraid. Because it can also kill you with its mind. Yes, it has a mind. And it enjoys killing you with its mind. Be also amused, in a deeply weird, weirdly deep sort of way…
First-time feature filmmakers director Edward Boase and screenwriter James Walker want you know right off the bat that Blooded is not a “mockumentary.” But it is a fictional story told in an expansive documentary format — complete with “reenactments” of “real” events — that lends a powerful urgency and immediacy and relevance to an invented story in a way that a more narrative structure would have missed.
I’d like to call Drive Angry Ghost Rider 2: Ghost Driver, except that a sequel to Cage’s previous awful example of cinematic demonic road rage is, in fact, already in production, for our sins. I might better call it Con Air Goes to Hell, because of the beautiful — and by beautiful, I mean, of course, vile and reprehensible — way it picks up the gauntlet thrown down by that violently misogynist film and slaps that gauntlet right at the viewer. In 3D!
The ambiguity of it all is at least as frustrating as it is intriguing, but director Brad Anderson whips it into something gorgeously terrifying, creating a sense of menace out of shadow and darkness the likes of which I’m not sure I’ve ever seen on film before.
I’m not entirely sure how much of what we see in Black Swan actually exists beyond the fevered imagination of the protagonist. And that perilous hold on reality is far from the only thing to love about this gorgeously horrific nightmare.
Crazy hot girl is hot, I guess. Is there something perceived to be sexy about mental illness? Cuz there would appear to be no purpose here unless it’s intended to get lonely horny guys off on the idea of the tediously banal Amber Heard locked in a depressing mental institution and subject to electroshock therapy rocking her bod.
The screenplay is like a transcription of a Dungeons and Dragons session: better hope you make a high saving throw during the wolf attack in Wormwood Forest! The “performances” are like clueless imitations of Monty Python by actors who don’t understand comedy. And those are its good points.
Doctor Who has been doing amazing things with TV since 2005, but this may be the best example yet of how gonzo and how simultaneously emotionally satisfying TV can be these days.
You simply need to see this to believe that anyone would conceive of such an outlandishly demented Christmas fantasy. In playing with the creepy roots of the story of Santa, Rare Exports finds the grim awfulness in the supposedly pleasant fantasy…
sample sponsored post (sponsored) - Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Fusce quis risus odio.
