I expect to see more original screenplays. Either that, or they should at least be adapting some decent literature. Or better yet, they could take an approach like Children of Men, where the book serves as mere inspiration rather than a rigid, suffocating blueprint.
I honestly don't think I've ever encountered a cast with such a staggering lack of charisma—unless, of course, you count Meryl. And then there’s the sheer density of non-linear nonsense being shoved down our throats as if it were high art.
The pricing is an absolute shambles—pure, unadulterated chaos. It’s just a disorganized heap of nonsensical, slapstick one-liners. I’m actually considering picking up the DVD... 🤔
I am in complete agreement with White. There is simply no substitute for the cinema experience. To an extent, I can empathize with the genre fanatics like Jerry and Constantine, as well as those more demanding filmmakers who don't exactly find much support from American distributors. Or even those who don't live in Washington, D.C. and can't keep up with the screenings at Central Park. But certain films simply demand the largest screen possible. Think of Leonov's westerns—those sweeping close-ups... or Stalker. I am perfectly willing to sacrifice my "informed" status and some sort of imaginary cinematic "education" if it means waiting for the right moment to experience a film at its full potential.
el_mariachi said:What the neighbor is writing isn't even relevant anymore... For heaven's sake... I could throw together a bunch of songs for a movie and call it a soundtrack myself... True art lies in actually composing original music specifically for the film.
And isn't it also an art form to curate a selection as stellar as the soundtrack for Something Wild? Or to track down such a phenomenal cover band? 😁
The Farrelly brothers aren't exactly amateurs when it comes to putting together a playlist, either.
You don't even need to take a close look at Transamerica to realize that Smoogj was spot on in that first post. Honestly, I tend to shy away from movies where characters feel the need to verbally explain their emotions during those quiet moments between major plot points.
I was just sitting here thinking about how much I value my own principles, and then I remembered Costell. The guy isn't just a complete jerk; he also pulls these ideological stunts that are frankly impossible to stomach. But hey, I guess he’s still the king of this scene, isn't he?
I am utterly exhausted by this constant state of agitation. Does anyone else feel like they are perpetually running on empty, yet somehow unable to actually rest? It is a relentless cycle of tension that seems to have no end in sight. kaže: WHAT?!
I’d go out and buy a whole damn VCR just to get my hands on that tape.
🙏 Childish Gambino
It’s funny how things work out. Now that he’s driving around with a visa that isn't even valid anymore, it's actually pretty easy to go take a look. How does Bill play? He tours way more often than he actually drops albums.
Adam Moore said:Do you have a movie?! Do you haaaaaaaave a moooooooovie?!?!?!?!? I need a movie right this second, right now!!!!!
Sorry, I'm stuck in a movie theater. But hey, at least I've got a Billy Childish documentary on VHS. If I were back in America, maybe that would be enough to comfort me.
oktopod said:My big guy knocks your big guy down and steals his shoes.
As seen in The Devil and Daniel Johnston:
He smacked his buddy over the head with a steel pipe. Then he bolted off a city bus—mostly because people kept hounding him and calling his parents just to get rid of him—and broke into some elderly lady's house, someone he knew from the local church, thinking maybe he could perform an exorcism. The poor woman was so terrified she jumped from the second floor and ended up with broken ankles.
The Beverly Hills Hotel and Bohemian Rhapsody are just ugly songs, though I can't even bring myself to recall the latter unless it's some Bill Cosby cover version. It only really works as a parody. As for that other genre mentioned... southern rock, whether original or covered, isn't exactly ubiquitous where I live. I remember this one New Year's Eve at a garage club; after several hours of grimy basement vibes and proto-punk, they suddenly blasted Born in the U.S.A., and everyone instantly transformed into these laid-back hippies—despite their asymmetric haircuts—swaying their hips and humming along. I once had a bit of a meltdown regarding those Atlantic Records classics because of how much they were overplayed in commercials and soundtracks, but even that saturation can be overcome if the music is actually good. You could play Rolling Stones or David Bowie anytime without needing a Rolls-Royce to make it work. But then there's The Beatles... alongside The Beverly Hills Hotel, it’s probably one of the ugliest and most irritating "must-play" classics out there.