Tag Archives: Satire

APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: UP THE CATALOGUE (2024)

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DIRECTED BY: Alastair Siddons

FEATURING: Lyndsey Marshal, John Macmillan, Morgana Robinson, Anastasia Hille

PLOT: Hailey, the lead presenter for a shopping network, is forbidden from suspending her performance on a set where it’s always still morning.

Still from "Up the Catalogue" (2004)

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: Hailey’s journey to the end of the film is by turns comical, confusing, and surreal, culminating in a quick-but-profound moment of “hmm.”

COMMENTS: Judging from the dreams I suffered after watching this, I’ll advertise that angle first. An eager makeup artist preps protagonist Hailey for broadcast, interrupted by odd exchanges with an unseen Dave who runs hot and cold: snippy one moment, flattering in the next. “Forever Bread,” the invention of a gruff fellow in military-style fatigues, is among the never-fully-explained items for sale on 4QTV (quality, quantity, quintity, and never any Q’s), and we learn of Hailey’s aversion to bread mold and of her son, whose name she can’t quite remember. Derek—a regular caller, it seems telephones and goes on to confess his fear of dying (not unreasonably for a nonagenarian). Quick break, and on to the next item.

Alastair Siddons skewers one of television’s more ridiculous and unsettling genres, home shopping programs, through a ridiculous and unsettling little film. Up the Catalogue never goes anywhere; first Hailey’s is unable to leave the production set, then the building, and the finale is an extended pursuit down a repeated cycle of stairwell. Her boss, Dave, is the hellish counterpart of a Chris Morris TV producer, dangling the promise of implied freedom in front of Hailey only if she agrees to the terms of the rent-to-marry companion owl, Maureen, who used to be the network’s star hamster.

Up the Catalogue left me with a feeling of “Whelp, that just happened”, followed thereafter by a none-too-restful bit of sleep. The film cruises along the comedy-cringe line in true British fashion, adding a hearty dose of cramped infinity-space as the story unfolds within an endless backstage labyrinth. By the end, I wanted out as much as Hailey did, and I was relieved that my visit to this world wrapped up in only a little over an hour. That said, I strangely enjoyed the distressing journey—a sentiment which leaves me as confused as the climax did.

Rolling again in Five-Four-Q-Two-Action!

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

Up the Catalogue is unquestionably weird, offbeat and surreal right out of the gate. There’s a palpable awkwardness and Alastair Siddons builds a great atmosphere of intrigue.” — Rebecca Cherry, Film Carnage (contemporaneous)

Up the Catalogue [DVD]

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CAPSULE: BAD LUCK BANGING OR LOONY PORN (2021)

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Recommended

DIRECTED BY:

FEATURING: Katia Pascariu, Claudia Ieremia, Nicodim Ungureanu

PLOT: Scandal erupts as a young teacher’s homemade sex tape leaks online.

Still from Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn (2021)

COMMENTSWhen a movie starts with hardcore imagery of a pornographic nature, you know you’re in for a wild ride. Bad Luck Banging is an emblematic work that put its creator, Radu Jude, on the map as one of the most controversial, subversive and uncompromising visionaries in the current cinematic landscape. It also dramatically changed our perception of contemporary Romanian cinema: by revealing a completely different direction than the social realism associated with the Romanian New Wave, it laid the groundwork for even more ambitious cinematic achievements like Dracula (2025).

After the brief albeit graphic introduction, the movie divides into three distinct parts. For the first, we follow our teacher protagonist, Emi, around Bucharest as she buys groceries and runs errands. The  almost documentary-like pacing of this section may not be ideal for casual viewers. The camera takes its time revealing  cacophonies and pathogens of the heroine’s urban environment. It’s a subversive “city symphony,” with Bucharest portrayed as it is, not in a celebratory light. It’s a subtle yet caustic commentary on the ethos of a post-industrial consumerist society.

Then, the second section begins. It is an interlude of sorts, disrupting the main narrative while taking the form of an abecedary and a collection of anecdotes and fun facts. Its playfulness and essayistic nature remind the viewer of and the experimentation of the in general. At the same time, it expresses a deeply cynical view of humanity, and especially of Romania.

The third part—slightly longer than the two before it—focuses on an official meeting between our teacher and frustrated parents regarding the online leak of the teacher’s homemade erotic videos, which transforms into a trial of sorts, with every parent acting as an archetype of Romanian society, judging our protagonist’s deeds. Each, from a leftist intellectual to oppressive figures representing the Church and the Army, express long-established opinions, mostly of the conservative kind. Taking place in an enclosed space, the whole segment maintains theatricality, with corresponding lighting. In the end, three possible endings are proposed (let’s just say that the last is the weirdest).

Music plays a major role, underlining the ironic moments. Paeans accompany atrocities, while battle hymns go along with pornographic imagery. Upbeat tunes signal the transition between parts. And let’s not forget M. A. Numminen’s catchy yet seemingly random Wittgenstein-based song “In Order to Tell” (1970) in the closing credits.

Bad Luck Banging can be discussed today not only as a satiric view on western society’s pathologies, but also as a relic of the Covid era. Everyone wears masks and social distancing is all around the news.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“It’s a methodology combining the horrific with the absurd, blending academic inquiry with farcical social critique, à la Buñuel.”–John Kupecki, Austin Chronicle (contemporaneous)

Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn [Blu-ray]

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APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: CAT SICK BLUES (2015)

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DIRECTED BY: Dave Jackson

FEATURING: Matthew C. Vaughan, Shian Denovan, Meg Spencer, Jeni Bezuidenhout

PLOT: A former Internet celebrity whose life revolved around her cat’s  viral video performances and a fellow with a fetish for defiling and murdering women while dressed as a cat meet at a pet-loss support group. This is not a love story.

Still from Cat Sick Blues (2015)

COMMENTS: Within the first five minutes, Cat Sick Blues had already checked all my boxes for my favorite kinda horror movie: sick, dark humor on the /Full Moon spectrum (check), faithful adherence to horror movie protocol that the first two characters we meet die in minutes (check), a punk rock/screamo soundtrack that evokes the nihilist spirit of the story about to unfold (check), smirky social satire (check), a roller-coaster pace where you can’t possibly predict the next swerve (check), and a camera shot (pictured) with a head on a table, perfect to add to your decapitation scrapbook alongside Frankenhooker (check-a-roonie). By the time the first victim’s head had bounced gaily down the stairs, the movie had already bounced purring into my lap. Cat Sick Blues takes turns affectionately nuzzling your face and playfully clawing you hard enough to draw blood. Just when you think you can let your guard down, it bites your hand again, lest you get too comfortable. Many will be turned off by it, but for the rest of us horror/sicko freaks, this is our cup of catnip tea.

Claire (Shian Denovan) is the owner of Imelda, a fluffy white cat whose videos have taken on a viral life of their own. Sadly, Imelda’s fandom is a little too fanatic, as one obsessed fan shows up at her door and bluffs his way inside, only to summarily murder her cat and rape her. Broken, Claire ends up at a support group for bereaved pet owners (if you liked Fight Club’s satire of support-group culture, here’s another dose of that). There, she meets Ted (Matthew C. Vaughan), a towering and imposing fellow who’s also shy and antisocial. Ted is going through some things, to put it mildly. He has sought a support group way too late in life, having already converted himself by night into a serial killer in a cat mask. He even enlists the help of a local leather-crafter to fashion a set of sharp-clawed gloves, and a monster-sized strap-on spiked dildo to complete the ensemble. In this costume, he dispatches victims and, more than once, has a very dramatic orgasm while doing so, spasming on the floor in his cat mask and floppy dildo. All of this turns out to have a second purpose for Ted: he is collecting the blood of victims in a bucket in anticipation of re-animating his own dead black cat, Patrick. (Note to A Bucket of Blood: this is what a whole bucket of blood looks like!)

Claire and Ted hook up, after Ted makes a whirlwind cleaning tour of his apartment to hide the serial killer paraphernalia and trophies. So the question becomes, will Claire figure out that she’s dating a killer before Ted fulfills his body count? What happens from here becomes less clear as the story proceeds, until act three, where the director decides to let the story-logic slide into territory, with dream sequences and hallucinations clouding the narrative enough that we can pick our own ending. The one thing that’s clear is that this movie will have no shortage of indelible images right up to the end credits, including some genuine gross-outs.

For a small budget picture, it’s a pleasure seeing such attention to detail. The chaos is sharply filmed, framed, and hemmed in by a tight production all around. The set is filled with familiar cat-themed gift shop kitsch like cat mugs, cat T-shirts, and cat bongs. One scene has Claire sorting through her mail; the pile of envelopes has some custom-printed mailers relevant to the plot, with text you’ll want to freeze-frame so its carefully spread satire may be read and appreciated in full. A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it scene has Ted visiting a rave where teenagers in glowing jewelry wave their phones in the air and the DJ raises a squirt-gun to his lips. Most impressive of all, Cat Sick Blues was released in 2015, and yet has not aged a single day. We’re still a culture obsessed with Internet fame and cats, wallowing in bizarre fetishes and shallow morals. Claire’s fans, adoring the content yet lacking empathy for its creator, flock to ridicule her situation, or steal clicks by posting reaction videos to her plight.

It’s remarkable that this film isn’t better known (or at least didn’t cross our radar sooner), but we can chalk that up to an Australian production by a director who seems to live entirely at film festivals down under. Reading the IMDB reviews, I see commenters practically coughing up hairballs as they remark how upsetting, offensive, and disturbing this movie is. Let the poor little kittens lap their safe milk. For us fans of feral film, Cat Sick Blues is the kitty that roars like a lion.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…sometimes movies just leave you completely confused and unsure of what it is that you just watched. That basically sums up how I felt once I had finished watching the bizarre Australian horror film, Cat Sick Blues.”–Chris Coffel, Bloody Disgusting (DVD)

(This movie was nominated for review by Bradley, who called it “one odd movie.”. Suggest a weird movie or two of your own here.)

 

 

Cat Sick Blues

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APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: UNITED TRASH (1996)

aka The Slit

Weirdest! 

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DIRECTED BY: Christoph Schlingensief

FEATURING: Udo Kier, Kitten Natividad, Joachim Tomaschewsky, Johnny Pfeifer, Jones Muguse, Thomas Chibwe

PLOT: The wife of a gay German UN commander stationed in Africa gives birth to a child who is declared the new messiah; when an accident causes the boy to be horribly injured and endangers the UN mission, an escalating battle for power arises between the power-hungry commander, a religious leader who has declared war on the Vatican, and a chieftain who is attempting to actualize his dream to ride a ramshackle rocket into the White House to kill the American president.

Still from United Trash [AKA The Slit] (1996)

WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE APOCRYPHA: Movies can be weird, they can be strange, they can be bizarre, but it’s rare to come across a movie that is actually insane. Under the trappings of satire on a global scale, United Trash offers a critique of international affairs forged in the crucible of late 20th century daytime talk shows. There is not a single character in the film who isn’t as awful as they can be, nor a situation that is not plussed to become the most grotesque version of itself. So many fluids are spattered across the screen, everyone is subject to abject humiliation, and not a single institution fails to be undermined. Rarely has a film’s contempt for its subjects been so blatant and so complete, nor has a commitment to the most base appeals for a laugh been pursued so vigorously.

COMMENTS: In a career cut appallingly short by cancer, Christoph Schlingensief racked up a remarkable number of achievements, including staging a Wagner opera at the Bayreuth Festival, making plans to build a performing arts center in Burkina Faso, and curating a retrospective of his art that was staged posthumously at the Vienna Biennale. In cinema, he created a trilogy of films exploring the trauma caused by both the rise of Hitler and the process of German reunification. (The last of those, Terror 2000, also sits in our Reader Queue.) And in the middle of all this, he directed a film in which Udo Kier paints himself in blackface, dons a skirt made of bananas, and dances like a monkey in front of an audience of Africans while stroking the center banana aggressively. It’s an extraordinary career.

United Trash features one of the most game casts I have ever seen. There’s not an ounce of shame among the lot of them. They got the note that subtlety would be punishable by death, and they responded by going furiously over the top. Keir leads the way with his relentless prissiness, matched by a frequently naked Natividad raving maniacally about her lack of sexual satisfaction. They are surrounded by actors working just as hard to win the title of Least Restrained Performance, including a Hitler-mustachioed doctor/rocket scientist, an amoral, sexually ravenous, Vatican-hating priest, and Keir’s absurdly bewigged, unexpectedly jacked, child-molesting Continue reading APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: UNITED TRASH (1996)