DIRECTED BY: Justin Benson, Aaron Moorhead
FEATURING: Peter Cilella, Vinny Curran, Zahn McClarnon, Bill Oberst Jr., Kurt David Anderson, Emily Montague
PLOT: A man ties up his methamphetamine-addicted friend in a cabin in hopes he will kick his drug habit, but strange things start to happen.
WHY IT SHOULD MAKE THE LIST: In this tense micro-budget thriller, a young man tries to bring his friend back to reality, only to find that “reality” isnot just open to interpretation, but malleable and ever-changing. In fact, the pair’s reality might not even be their own. A genre bender and a puzzler all in one film, this indie thriller combines horror, mystery, drama, and psychological suspense elements with a novel premise and twist and turns to deliver a uniquely weird viewing experience.
COMMENTS: In spite of some worn cliches—mysterious found footage, missing researchers, and a mystic medicine cabin obligatorily set on an Indian reservation—with Resolution, independent writer/director Justin Benson brings us a breath of fresh air. The film is technically adept on its small budget, and presents a real genre-bender of a plot. Resolution builds slowly as a crime drama, becomes psychological suspense, then morphs into a puzzler riddled with paradoxes. It releases in a brief climax of occult horror.
In the story, yuppie Michael (Peter Cilella) travels to a remote squatters’ shack, where his addict friend Chris (Vinny Curran), bristling with firearms and contraband, has holed up, resolved to kill himself with drugs. Michael restrains Chris, and forces him to withdraw “cold-turkey” over the course of a week.
A progression of weirdos make the scene. Chris’s low-life cohorts (Kurt David Anderson and Kyler Meacham) drop in, demanding drugs. A tightly-wired Native American property owner (Zahn McClarnon) and his menacing gang show up to evict the occupants. A scheming real estate developer (Josh Higgins) creeps in, mistaking Michael and Chris for the deed-holders, and a doomsday religious cult is engaging in shenanigans a little too nearby for comfort.
Michael strives to maintain control over the situation to buy enough time to get Chris straightened out, and back to civilization and rehab. Despite the threat posed by oddball interlopers, the real tension is yet to come.
Someone…or some THING is watching and recording everything Michael and Chris do. But how? The surveillance indicates a presence that looms closer and closer, yet Michael can’t detect the observer.
Looking for clues, Micheal discovers strange footage shot by a missing anthropology team, then locates a laconic neighbor, Bryon (Bill Oberst Jr.), with an uncomfortably unorthodox existential philosophy. From here the story plunges into perplexing paradoxes. Chris’s sleazy drug buddies and the landowner converge for a showdown. Mind-bending events knock Mike and Chris away from objective reality and any sense of control over their destinies.
Resolution is talky, but intriguing. The long-winded plot is better suited for an hour short. Aside from establishing an initial setting and circumstances, the first half of the film doesn’t bear vital relation to the engaging concepts of the second. It’s still pretty good. Unsettling developments keep us watching. Plot twists reveal a honeycomb of passages down which to venture. Rather than choose one of them and proceed, the filmmakers offer a twisted experience based on the fact that these alternate routes exist.
Part of the fun of Resolution is thinking about the various possibilities and what they mean. In our minds, we pursue them, trying to predict the outcome, but just when we think we know what’s going to happen, Resolution throws us a new twist. Throughout it all ripples a nerve-jarring undercurrent of menace, indeterminate and incipient. Mike and Chris’s safe return to the outside world is increasingly unfeasible.
Subtle cinematic artistry reinforces the exposition. In the scene in which Michael is conversing with Byron, Byron discusses his views about narrative and story. As he explains his views, he holds a mirror. At first, the mirror is angled so that Micheal’s reflection blends with Byron’s face. The effect is to project Byron and Micheal as melded together, depicting a dual entity. But Michael cannot see it. Only we can see it.
Byron angles the mirror so that we see another mirror on the wall behind Michael, producing the illusion of endless repetition. It illustrates the concept of how a painter records a scene. There is the scene, and a painter painting it. But there is a larger scene. For us to see the painter painting the scene, there must be another painter, painting the painter painting the scene… and so on to infinity. This is a pivotal moment in the film. Resolution carries distinct, though not fully developed sub-themes about the evolution and structure of folklore, myth and story, and these are tied into paradoxes.
Resolution was filmed in a half-completed lodge under construction, illuminated by hook lamps, and without background music. Intimate camerawork increases a sense of realism, almost like seeing a documentary. The technique is effective because Resolution turns out to be all about deconstruction and the plastic nature of reality. By the time we realize this, we’ve accepted the actuality of what’s transpired, only to have the drop sheet yanked out from under our feet.
WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:
“…a strangely tense and humorous meta-narrative about two friends experiencing weird goings-on at a remote cabin.”–Robert Abele, The Los Angeles Times (contemporaneous)
Hey you aspiring chroniclers of the weird, don’t forget to write up your entry for the fifth annual review writing contest for your chance to win a Ghastly Love of Johnny X DVD signed by director Paul Bunnell! Use your December break wisely.
Also, don’t forget to check out our sister site, I Remember This Movie, and help people who are looking for the names of movies they have vague memories of. This week’s orphan movie in the spotlight: someone is looking for a vintage RKO-style art-deco musical that features a tree house. If this rings a bell please hie to I Remember This Movie and put this poor woman’s mind at ease, or answer any of dozens of other unanswered movie mysteries.
Back on 366 Weird Movies, this December we’ll be wrapping up our coverage of 2013 releases, starting this week with reviews of the mindbending cabin horror Resolution, William Friedkin’s hick hitman black comedy Killer Joe (actually a late 2012 DVD release, but it’s in the reader-suggested review queue), and the recently Blu-rayed anime cyberpunk classic Akira (1988). And, always zigging when the rest of us zag, Alfred Eaker chooses to cover Klaus Kinski’s ill-conceived, exploitative mess of a biopic, Paganini (1989).
It was a lean week for weird search terms used to locate the site, but as always we’ll highlight the strangest searches that stained our server logs. In the category of queries that should lead searchers to (subtle plug coming) I Remember This Movie comes “2 old ladies kill and eat man then grow mushrooms in basement” and “moon+camera+sheep+capsule movie name.” In the same vein, but somewhat weirder, is “1980s movie vagina climb.” But for our weirdest search term of the week we’ll go in a different direction and pick “happy halloween you lucious peice of trash”; not because the words perplex us (we know exactly what the searcher is looking for), but because we’re thrilled to be #1 in Google for that obscure search. 366 Weird Movies: your #1 source for luscious Halloween trash!
Here’s how the ridiculously-long reader-suggested review queue stands: Killer Joe (next week!); Akira (next week!); Liquid Sky (re-review); Society (official review); The 7 Faces of Dr. Lao; Celine and Julie Go Boating; Black Cat, White Cat; The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T; Abnormal: The Sinema of Continue reading WHAT’S IN THE PIPELINE
A feast featuring every kind of meat one could imagine is held for a group of overindulgent, upper-class men and women.
Next Floor from PHI Centre on Vimeo.
Our weekly look at what’s weird in theaters, on hot-off-the-presses DVDs, and on more distant horizons…
Trailers of new release movies are generally available on the official site links.
IN THEATERS (LIMITED RELEASE):
Crave: A disillusioned crime scene photographer retreats into a world of vigilante revenge fantasies. The ad copy speaks of an “inner world of dark fantasies” and “dangerous visions,” but the early reviews speak of “empty movie-shout-out posturing” and “a misleading, long-winded chore.” Ouch. Crave official site.
NEW ON DVD:
“Magical Play: Complete Collection” (2001): A girl with a fish-cloak competes with a girl in a cat-bikini and others to become a Magical Girl. This series, originally webcast, is a parody of a “magical girl” anime subgenre you probably didn’t know existed. We mention it because the back boxcover promises that “it’s going to get REALLY weird…,” and the trailer suggests that it might. Buy “Magical Play”: Complete Collection.
“Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman” (1976): This ahead-of-its-time Seventies soap opera spoof put beleaguered Fernwood, Ohio housewife Mary Hartman (Louise Lasser) through encounters with religious cults, UFOs and waxy yellow buildup before being canceled after thirty-one episodes. Martin Mull’s talk-show parody spinoff series “Fernwood 2-Nite” lasted slightly longer, but is equally unknown to today’s youth. Buy “Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman”: The Complete Series.
“Tales of Terror”: Mill Creek is outdoing itself with its latest set: they’re up from 50 movies per box to an amazing 200 el cheapo movies in one set. The usual public domain goodies (and baddies) are to be found here, including the Certified Weird entries The Beast of Yucca Flats, Carnival of Souls, Horrors of Spider Island, Maniac (1934), and Nosferatu. Prints are, of course, the worst available, but you’re paying for quantity, not quality, with these sets. Buy “Tales of Terror”.
What are you looking forward to? If you have any weird movie leads that I have overlooked, feel free to leave them in the COMMENTS section.
Most agree that F.W. Murnau‘s Nosferatu (1922) is the greatest and most unique screen incarnation of Bram Stoker’s iconic character (although, as blasphemous as it sounds, I would place Werner Herzog‘s 1979 remake on an equal plane. Yes, I said that, but that is a subject for another week). However, the greatest cinematic treatment of vampire folklore is a world removed from the titular Transylvanian count: Carl Theodor Dreyer‘s Vampyr (1932). But it is not for attention span-challenged vampire fans.
Vampyr is a film of relentless, static beauty, almost demanding chimerical concentration and phantasmagorical imagination of the viewer. After the predictable box office failure of the greatest film ever made—Dreyer’s Passion of Joan of Arc (1928)—the director deluded himself into thinking he could produce something commercial. He had what seemed to be the right source of inspiration (slight as it is): Sheridan Le Fanu’s 1872 pulp hit “Carmilla,” taken from the collection “In a Glass Darkly.” “Carmilla,” with its theme of a lesbian vampire would, of course, be enticing fodder for the dull masses. But it turned out Dreyer was too original and too much in possession of an authentic, artistic spiritual substance for titillation. Fortunately, Dreyer, who wrote the screenplay, jettisoned the lesbianism and, with it, any anticipation of appeasing puerile genre fans. Vampyr was a financial flop, resulting in Dreyer’s nervous breakdown and the dissolution of his production company. He would not make another film until Day of Wrath (1943). If period aficionados found Vampyr‘s deliberate pacing and intense, ethereal milieu too challenging, then many contemporary viewers, saddled with grand guignol expectations, often find the film provocative. Despite this, Vampyr proved to be a profound influence on both the German Expressionists and the Surrealists.
Although Vampyr was Dreyer’s first sound film, he was uncomfortable with the medium, and the movie is imbued with pronounced silent film aesthetics. The great Rudolph Mate served as director of photography, interpreting Dreyer’s crepuscular world through incandescent, gossamer grays, giving the film an enchanted but foreboding sheen. Dreyer likened the experience of watching the film to a person standing in a room, then being told that another has just died in an adjacent room. The perception of the room you are in suddenly alters, even though the room itself remains the same.
As in a dream, the imagery is often disjointed, but deeply ingrained: a ferryman with scythe, a shrouded river, a shadow departing its one-legged owner, the antagonist dispatched by suffocating from falling white flour in a dilapidated windmill, and the film’s nexus: the disquieting vignette in which the protagonist, Allan Grey (Julian West, who financed the film) lies, trapped, in a sealed coffin, perforated with a glass window. We take on the role of voyeur to Grey’s nightmare, his helpless, vacant stare masking his terror. His eyes take in the landscape as he is carried away to burial.
The cast is primarily made up of non-professionals (with the notable exception of Sybille Schmitz as the dying sister, Leon). Chief among the amateurs is Henriette Gerard as Marguerite Chopin, the old woman whose spectral presence is matched by her ominous Doctor (Jan Hieronimko). Together, the two weave a spell over the film, as does Dreyer, who imbues Vampyr with a resplendent sense of hermetic purpose permeating its sickly skin. As with all of Dreyer’s work, Vampyr is replete with spiritual preoccupations and fears.
Vampyr may be one of the films most benefited by the Criterion Collection treatment. For years, it was only available in washed out transfers. Even the Image Entertainment release was disappointing. Criterion has done a remarkable restoration, using both French and German versions. Jorgen Ross’ documentary of Dreyer, Casper Tyberjerg’s essay, commentaries, a 1958 Dreyer radio broadcast, and the original script are part of an extensive package of goodies.
DIRECTED BY: Raoul Ruiz
FEATURING: Sergio Hernández, Santiago Figueroa, Christian Vadim, Valentina Vargad, Chamila Rodriguez, Pedro Villagra, Sergio Schmied
PLOT: An old man recalls his childhood, when he used to carry on conversations with Long John Silver and Ludwig van Beethoven, as he waits in a boarding house for the man who will kill him to arrive.
WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE LIST: It’s a fine, absurd death movie. We suspect Ruiz has fielded better candidates to make the List of the 366 Best Weird Movies of all time, but this one carries an extra poignancy due to the fact that we are watching an artist sail into the sunset under his own power. Night Across the Street is Ruiz’ posthumous jibe at mortality.
COMMENTS: “Time seems to stumble here,” muses a character (amusingly, the line is delivered immediately following a jump cut). “The hours don’t follow one another.” Our main character, Don Celso, is talking to Jean Giono, a somewhat obscure French writer who died in 1970 but whom he meets in a translation seminar, presumably in the present day. Celso is used to chatting with such apparitions; as a child, he used to hold conversations with Beethoven (whom he takes to see a cowboy movie) and the fictional pirate Long John Silver (who predicts that someone close to the boy will die, only to find that every victim he suggests is already dead).
Night Across the Street‘s sense of being lost in a sea of memory where the distant past shares equal billing with the present should be familiar to anyone who has ever observed grandpa recalling his first kiss in the seventh grade as if it happened yesterday, while simultaneously forgetting where he put his keys and how to operate the remote control. The first forty minutes of the movie are full of flashbacks to Celso’s boyhood, leading us to fear that Night will one of those dull, reverential movies full of the bittersweet reminiscences of an old man reflecting back on a life speckled with triumphs and tragedies; but the last two-thirds of the film, dealing with the approach of death and its aftermath, prove far more interesting than the setup. The forcibly retired Celso is waiting for the man who will kill him to arrive, you see, and when the boarding house matron’s nephew, a poet, comes to stay, he thinks his killer has finally arrived. In a convoluted parody of drawing room murder mysteries and noirish twists, the nephew is planning to kill the old man for his money, while romancing his own aunt and a dancer/prostitute who also lives at the home. Meanwhile, Don Celso is trying to talk an assassin, who is a client of the dancer, out of killing the nephew.
It gets stranger from there, as rumors of murder start to fly and the movie’s dream sequences start having their own dream sequences. In the world of this movie, no distinction could be less important than the one between fantasy and reality (unless it is perhaps the one between past and present). Only the difference between life and death truly matters, but even that line proves difficult to draw. Different permutations of the story coexist, overlapped onscreen: it’s a surreally garbled tale of murder, a young boy’s ominous premonitions of the future, an old man’s dying dream, a self-conscious metafiction, and the memoirs of a ghost, all at the same time. It ends as a haunted house tale set in a cursed boarding house, a place where the ghosts are haunted by their own meta-ghosts. The movie sports a delightful sense of intellectual play, especially wordplay (the lectures on translation, poetry recitations, a running gag about a crossword clue, and the main character’s obsession with the word “rhododendron”). Nothing could be more absurd than death. With his extremely odd and dry sense of humor intact until the end, Ruiz laughs at death—not defiantly, but with genuine befuddled amusement.
Raoul Ruiz made over 100 movies in his lifetime, some in his native Chile and many in France where he lived in exile during the Pinochet regime. In 2010 he was diagnosed with cancer and received a successful liver transplant. He shot Night Across the Street in March of April of 2011; in August of that same year he died of a lung infection. He did preparatory work on one final movie, Linhas de Wellington (Lines of Wellington), a historical drama set in the Napoleonic Wars, which was completed by his widow Valeria Sarmiento.
WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:
“…suffused with the contrast between experience and memory, reality and surreality.”–Elizabeth Weitzman, New York Daily News (contemporaneous)
(This movie was nominated for review by Dwarf Oscar, who called it “a splendid and utterly weird movie, released after the filmmaker’s death, which brings a poignant resonance with the subjects tackled in the film.” Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)
DIRECTED BY: Giulio Paradisi
FEATURING: John Huston, Paige Conner, Joanne Nail, Lance Henriksen, Mel Ferrer, Glenn Ford, Shelley Winters
PLOT: Years ago, a cosmic menace known as Sateen escaped his alien captors and wreaked havoc across the stars. The forces of good and their army of birds vanquished him, but not before he reached Earth and impregnated multiple human women. The children born from those couplings would become mutants, telekinetic beings with the power to rule the world encoded in their genes. Much later, the mysterious being known as the Visitor (John Huston) dreams of a towering figure in black trudging across otherworldly sands. The figure turns into a young girl, and through this vision the Visitor realizes that Sateen’s abilities have resurfaced on Earth within eight-year-old Katy Collins (Paige Conner).
Katy’s hapless mother Barbara (Joanne Nail) recognizes the evil growing inside her daughter as well, as does the cabal controlling Barbara’s boyfriend, Raymond (Lance Henriksen). Seduced by his employers’ promise to fund his pro basketball team, Raymond agrees to impregnate Barbara with a second child in order fulfill their plans for world domination. Will Raymond succeed and help bring the world to its knees, or will Barbara exercise her right to choose (not to be an incubator for mankind’s destruction)?
Also, will the Visitor ever intervene, or will he spend most of his time wandering aimlessly to theme music that is a bit too dramatic and funky for a man who takes forever to walk down a single flight of stairs? And why is Jesus blonde and surrounded by bald children? The answers will surely surprise you, because if nothing else The Visitor is a story that nobody could ever see coming.
WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE LIST: One might read a summary of The Visitor’s plot about a possessed little girl and dismiss it as a rip-off of The Exorcist—which it is—but what’s really special about Giulio Paradisi’s film is that it also rips off Close Encounters of the Third Kind and The Birds. In a story where the Satan’s origin as an interstellar felon merits only the briefest attention, director Giulio Paridisi combines a range of ideas from across the spectrums of sci-fi, horror, and religion with such inspired fervor that he could almost be accused of originality. Yes, this is a film that steals parts of very recognizable movies and puts them together with the grace of a child forcing LEGO bricks into a jigsaw puzzle, but the uneven hodgepodge born from The Visitor’s plagiarism is utterly unique in its weirdness.
COMMENTS: From an overqualified cast whose presence could’ve only resulted from blackmail to a plot that immediately requires you to accept that Jesus Christ lives in outer space, very little about The Visitor makes sense. As with many of the so-bad-they’re-weird films, though, that incoherency is the source of the film’s charm. To sit down and explain The Visitor, either by rationalizing its production choices or clarifying its plot scene by scene, would reduce it by turning it into something knowable and common rather than the masterpiece of the bizarre that it is.
The best way to describe The Visitor is to instead just recount a few of its many insane twists, all of which are delivered with the abruptness and enthusiasm of someone making it up as he goes along. This is a movie that casts celebrated director John Huston as a second-fiddle messiah known as the Visitor, whose efforts to stop the possessed Katy Collins soon detour into posing as her babysitter and losing to her in a game of Pong. The threat posed by the girl lies in her telekinesis and a murderous pet hawk whose presence and ability to open doors is never questioned, at least until a maid played by Academy Award-winning actress Shelley Winters kills the bird with her bare hands. However, even more dangerous than Katy is the prospect of her mother, Barbara, giving birth to a son. That second child promises to usher in the end of times, but luckily Barbara lives in post-Roe v. Wade America. After getting pregnant she averts the apocalypse with a timely abortion, leaving the Visitor and his conscripted army of pigeons to take care of Katy and save the day once and for all. Of course, one may wonder why the Visitor didn’t simply take care of Katy as soon as he arrived on Earth, but the answer is clear. That would mean denying us a pretty awesome movie.
After leaving the film’s premiere, Huston reportedly walked up to director Giulio Paradisi and said, “You know what, I had no idea we were making that kind of movie. Congratulations.” Therein lies the wonderful essence of The Visitor, an undertaking so strange that even the people making it could not understand it. It veers from one crazed idea to the next without a care in the world. The results are inscrutable, but within that inscrutability lies a kind of magic. Ultimately, it’s a movie that proves that, when you don’t need to justify yourself, anything is possible.
Drafthouse Films is re-releasing The Visitor to theaters through January 2014, with a new DVD release to follow.
WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:
“…too messy and weird to have hit back in the day but too inventive and accomplished to have been rotting for so long.”–Alan Scherstuhl, The Village Voice (2013 re-release)
It’s been over a year since our last review writing contest, and we’re itching for some new blood. To encourage you guys to chip in (and possibly earn a spot as a junior contributor—we get a lot of low-budget screeners we could use help sorting through), we’re offering a Ghastly PackTM, consisting of a DVD copy of The Ghastly Love of Johnny X with the cover signed by director Paul Bunnell, two promotional postcards, and a video production diary (a separate DVD-R disc of behind-the-scenes material that is not commercially available). This is a great pack for anyone interested in low-budget movie making. All you have to do to earn this ghastly (and wonderful) prize is to submit the best movie review, following the rules set out below:
- Write a review of a movie that you think should be on the List of the 366 Best Weird Movies, but that we haven’t added yet. Including the following sections: DIRECTOR, FEATURING (listing the most important actors), PLOT (a one sentence synopsis), WHY IT DESERVES TO MAKE THE LIST (a one sentence to one paragraph description of why you think the movie is weird), COMMENTS (one to two paragraphs describing the movie in more detail). If you have a suggestion for a still to represent the movie and/or a quote from a critic on the film, you can include those, but they are not required.
- Alternatively, a well-thought out “second opinion” on a movie that we have already considered, but that you think we got wrong (either by putting it on the List when it shouldn’t have made it, or rejecting a film that should have made it), will be acceptable.
- Submit your work on our contact form. By submitting your entry on this form, you agree to allow 366weirdmovies.com to publish your work, either whole or in edited form, on this website. Your work may be selected for publication even if you are not chosen as the winner.
- The contest is open to anyone whose work has not previously been published on 366weirdmovies.com.
- You may not write a review promoting a film which you were involved in the production of, or in which you have a financial interest.
- This site strives to remain “PG” rated; try not to use profanity in your review.
- The contest will remain open for one month, until Jan 2, 2014, at which time the editor will select the best entry. The winner will be chosen on the basis of writing style, insight, and appropriateness of the movie chosen. The deadline may be extended, depending on the number of entries received.
- In order to be eligible to receive the prize, you must supply a valid email address and a valid mailing address. International addresses are acceptable. If the winning entrant does not supply a valid mailing address, or declines the prize, the DVD will be given to a randomly selected entry with a mailing address in the United States. If no entries are from the United States, then the deadline to complete the contest will be extended.
TIPS: Avoid merely summarizing the plot in your comments. Avoid giving away “spoilers” in your descriptions that might ruin the enjoyment of the film. Obscure titles are fine—in fact, they may be worth bonus points—but try to pick a film that is available on DVD, or is at least likely to be released. If you write on a film no one will be able to view or locate, the movie may be judged as inappropriate. Try to keep your review to under 1000 words total—more is not always better when it comes to movie recommendations.
One final tip: don’t be scared away by thinking you have to write something profoundly insightful. Simply consider it as a chance to describe and recommend a film to that narrow audience of people who are interested in the same kind of weird movies as you are.
Chances of winning depend on the number of entries received.
Well, it’s out of the pipeline, but we wanted to gently remind you “what was that weird movie?” folks about I Remember This Movie, our official movie-remembering spinoff site. We’ll continue entertaining mystery movie queries here, but we’d like to encourage you to try the new site out. We’re keeping track of which user solves the most mystery movies, and so far it’s “Dreamer” with 1 correct answer: that’s a target we believe you can surpass…
Up on next week’s slate: we’ll announce a new review-writing contest on Monday, so get those typing fingers ready to go. In the “new” release category, we’ll take a look at 1979′s bizarre and confusing Exorcist ripoff The Visitor, which Drafthouse Films is re-releasing to theaters in hopes they’ve uncovered a new lost cult movie. Are they right? We’ll also be reviewing the final movie from Raoul Ruiz, Night Across the Street, a defiantly absurd meditation on death by an artist who realized his days were numbered (Ruiz died in 2011 and the completed movie debuted at Cannes in 2012; in the movie, an old man waits patiently for his killer to arrive while he remembers his childhood when he would carry on conversations with Long John Silver and Ludwig van Beethoven).
Speaking of mystery movies, our weirdest search terms of the week were mostly composed of strange people looking for movies that are strange even by our standards. For example, there was the guy looking for “movies with head of man with bag of worms.” There was the counterintuitive search for a “movie where girls get naked to stay warm” (maybe the girls were blondes?) And there was our official Weirdest Search Term of the Week, the guy on a quest to find an “animation middle man eating woman breast.” We have weird movies here, sure, but none of those ring even the slightest of bells. Maybe these searchers should be visiting I Remember This Movie instead?
Here’s how the ridiculously-long and ever-growing reader-suggested review queue stands: Liquid Sky (re-review); Society (official review); The 7 Faces of Dr. Lao; Celine and Julie Go Boating; Black Cat, White Cat; The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T; Abnormal: The Sinema of Nick Zedd; Robot Continue reading WHAT’S IN THE PIPELINE
“Fortunes: an experimental comedy on our relationship with consumerism, household rituals, and our objects of worship.”
Content Warning: Offensive language.