A child is born into a whorehouse and drug-addled adult self-immolates in a mansion. Somewhere between these two events is the "why". But can the root of this trauma be fully explored when the chief investigator is also the subject? It's this question which becomes central for the viewer of Jo Jo Dancer; to balance the clear pain that Pryor is relitigating from his own personal history while interrogating how much accountability he takes in his own misfortune.
However, the…
Something that I have come to love about experimental studies on light and the camera, such as Fathomless and the works of Brakhage, is how the emptiness invites the viewer into a meditative mental solitude. A rejection of the notion that cinema is a vehicle for escapism, the viewer's mind is offered no avenue for escape or distraction, and as a result our efforts to have a relationship with these films force us to have a relationship with ourselves.
Here the childhood act of finding faces and figures in clouds has been cosmically expanded to seeking out meaning in the wistful and abstract forms of nebulas.
"I just want to chase that ball. It's all I need in life."
In the past year I've come to embrace my early twenties by doing what just about any self-loathing twenty-three year old would do: Stay up till 4 am doing essentially nothing. Eventually a few friends and I, all stricken with the same existentialism induced insomnia, took to watching Japanese baseball games since, for us Americans, Nippon Professional Baseball games air at the prime time slot of 2:00…
I need to be blunt here. I've seen a lot of old cartoons and this is one of the most troubling.
In the cartoon Casper, feeling dejected after scaring off all the people in the city, travels to the moon to meet the man in the moon. When he arrives he finds no man but is captured by a race of tiny humanoid creatures. The tiny people are soon attacked by a race of giant tree men, which is evidently…
