"In heaven everything is fine".
As I sit here in front of my computer, sipping on a glass of red wine, Lost Highway buzzing from a screen in the background, I honestly cannot believe I now live in a world without David Lynch. Today has been a rough one. I simply cannot remember ever being as heartbroken, as utterly devastated by the loss of an artist as I feel now. David and I shared a name and almost a birthday,…
CRT monitors flicker surrounded by the buzz of shrieking, bleeding purple. A skeleton melts still watching them, still wearing its baby blue hazmat suit. A storm is coming with things of unknown origin detected but invisible within. Joe Meredith's Ataraxia pulls sources from YouTube analog horror, classic video games and the very best in practical effect laden cinema and melts them all down into twenty plus minutes of horror so much my jam that it near put me to sleep.…
So yeah I watched Class of 1999 before Class of 1984 man.
What of it?
I just kinda needed to see the dirty ole man looking dude from Bound spank a coupla students from the school in Akira to death after Malcolm McDowell's subsidiary of Omni Consumer Products led by Hot Topic purchased Halloween contacts and either the world's worst blonde stick on mullet or dead roadkill hairpiece sporting Stacy Keach releases three 1 MILLION MEGABYTE androids into said school…
There is a scene in Smile 2 when you think our leading lady and Lady Gaga type megastar is going to be finally rid of her demonic torment. A character who seems to be the only one that knows what the fuck is going on leaves to “get something” after she explains why she finally decided to trust him, effectively pouring her heart out on an operating table, but he never comes back. It's genuinely upsetting and unnerving. Like most…
A young woman takes a central seat in a largely deserted, red seated, carpeted and curtain-draped movie theatre. As she munches on a small box of unending popcorn, she takes in the few other patrons seated sparsely around her. One old lady knits something. Another elderly man simply gazes ahead. The final, unchecked patron looks back at her, arm casually lent on the adjacent seat, his reddened eyes and pale face fixed on her with an inhuman stare. Perturbed she…
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuuck here we go.
For the second part of my pinku night I went with the worryingly titled Woman in a Box: Virgin Sacrifice. I must say, Japanese films of this nature certainly don’t mess about with the titles. They go right to the jugular. Or the labia. Yikes. I do love that about them. When translated to English literally they also have that simple but effective, and frightening, quality. As the excellent Letterboxder Dave Jackson…
