My Bloody Valentine 3D

One of my many pet peeves: When someone expresses distaste for a theater experience and groans "I'll just wait till It's released on DVD..." pertaining to admission prices. Seeing how rental prices are on average $5 or below and DVD's, brand new, are around $18, this assessment is brash and naive in nature. Sure, dramas aren't necessarily known for their impact on a 25 foot screen but horror films and action all owe their allegiance to the mighty screen. My Bloody Valentine 3D is a film that you either see in theaters or you don't see at all. It's that simple.


Stemming from the originals plot line, My Bloody Valentine 3D divvy's up the gore, storyline, and characters and tweaks each category as seen fit. The violence is elevated to an extreme level, the ending is altered to better fit the "bubble-gum" psycho-horror that is popularly seen today, and the characters are given that teen heartthrob makeover with their stunning eyes, less-is-more makeup appliance, and that flippy cow licked hair that's making a stylish comeback; We'll be seeing no more of those bushy 80s teenagers anymore. Good riddance. That is, unless Rob Zombie attempts to continue his "American" series ending with The Devil's Rejects.


For the optimal 3D experience, the closer you sit to the screen, the more "penetrating" the optical effects will be. In regards to this film, My Bloody Valentine was destined for greatness in stunning 3D. The pickax is the prime weapon of choice to glorify with eye-popping visuals. The dimensions of the weapon allow for it to appear menacing off screen rather than a flat machete or an equally less impressive weapon. The pickax is also put to great use in this film, allowing for postmortem abortions, ripping out rib cage's, severing torso's, plucking out peoples jaw's, and many other uses. My Bloody Valentine is as bloody as advertised with a special treatment of depth to man made body cavities.


The original My Bloody Valentine has been christened "low budget charm" by pretty teenage girls but I find everything but charm in the collected product. The unforgiving dialogue, the tedious build up of suspense, the lack of usage of the pivotal miner; All these work against it. Underusing the intimidating Miner character is like putting a birthday cake in Jason Voorhees' hands. It's taking something good and befouling it with childish play things. The 3D remake is a step up from the original in near every way and even goes as far as to deconstruct the slasher genre and piece it together properly for the modern youth generation. In the state of a horror depression where every other film is a remake of some obscure Japanese tale or some feminist ghost activity followed by monotonous Saw sequels, a film that's designed for fast, flying violent fun is greeted with open arms as we cast a scornful eye over our shoulders, blaming Hollywood for killing one of the most popular genres with fluff.


Thanks to the 3D format, the film has many foregrounds to focus on. Everything looks good in 3D, it's proven effortlessly except for films like Journey to the Center of the Earth. I've heard only rumors of that travesty. From the riveting opening title sequence down to scenes of dialogue, the depth of the shots provides for a filling cinematic experience. This is an experience to herald and consummate with. Once I had strewn the formula of My Bloody Valentine 3D around and analyzed each part, your assumptions may be right. It may be new-wave horror and ultraviolent, it may have wily teenage humor and cliché plot twists, and it may have the flaws of the original going against it but with 3D on its side, My Bloody Valentine 3D is one of the more captivating theater experiences and deserves a go for being so.

-mAQ

Brando Flirted with Fascism?

In Marlon Brando’s early years, he could have made the ideal Aryan superman. Brando was tall and handsome which would make him suitable for being the poster boy of an American Nazi movement. The reality is, however, that Brando has always taken up the liberal and civil right causes. In body he may have been Aryan but in mind is a completely different story. With Marlon Brando’s acting abilities, it’s apparent that he was a very emotive person who lacked the ideal stoicism for someone of his appearance. Brando was the great American “rebel” and new kind of man that Hollywood pushed. Marlon’s brilliant and suave performance in The Wild One made it cool to be a rebel and even cooler to do it with style.


Marlon Brando starred in the banal American World War II propaganda film The Young Lions. The highlight and only redeeming quality of the film is seeing Brando in a Nazi officer uniform. In the film, Brando carries a horrible German accent and his hair is bleached a peculiar blond. Marlon plays a tragic character in The Young Lions that starts out as an ambitious German peasant who wants to bring up his social status which National Socialism has promised him. Essentially, Marlon Brando is the “nice” Nazi who “sold his soul” to the evil Third Reich and pays for his mistake with his life in the end. The Young Lions even features an obviously Yiddish Jewish actor playing a Nazi concentration camp leader who brags about all the Jews that have been gassed.


Marlon Brando was disappointed with the arrogance of the writer of The Young Lions, Irwin Shaw. Brando felt annoyed by the fact that Shaw felt that all Germans were to blame for what came to be know as the Nazi holocaust. Marlon stated about Shaw book, “if you pick out a whole people and say, all the Germans are this, all the Jews do this, that’s exactly what Hitler did. If you start thinking and feeling in broad terms like that then it’s very dangerous, That was clear in Shaw’s book, in his bitterness and anger.” After making statements like this, Marlon Brando would be haunted with the typical slur of being labeled an “Anti-Semite” for the rest of his career. Brando never even knew what the purpose or the real meaning behind the word “Anti-Semite” was. Marlon Brando stated of Anti-Semitism, “Anti-Semitism? I used to have to ask people what that was. I didn’t understand the word, I could never figure it out. It’s still a problem to figure out."

Marlon Brando, Celia Adler, and Paul Muni in A Flag is Born

Knowing Marlon Brando’s track record with the Jewish community and his Civil Rights activism, it would be absurd to call Brando an “Anti-Semite.” Despite whatever things Marlon may have said in his life, his contribution to the Jews and other minority groups rights are tremendous. Brando helped raise money for the Israeli terrorist group Irgun Zvai Leummi by performing in a play called A Flag is Born by Ben Hecht. The profits from the play were used to buy arms and ammunition. Irgun would be responsible for the deaths of many Arabs and British soldiers. Marlon Brando also stated of his involvement with Irgun that, “We had to take six weeks’ course and learn about Israel and how it was formed, how it became a state, the Balfour Declaration and the presence of the British, the position of the Arabs.” For the Jewish community to label Marlon Brando, an early supporter of Israeli terrorism, an Anti-Semite is nothing more than an ungrateful stab in the back.

George Lincoln Rockwell

Marlon Brando was also known for his contribution to and mobilization of Civil Rights activists. In California in 1963, Brando led a small group of CORE marchers to protest for Civil Rights. Also present at the event were troops of George Lincoln Rockwell’s American Nazi Party. One of the American storm troopers carried a sign that stated “Marlon Brando is a Nigger-Loving Creep.” It is a surprise that none of the American Nazi Party members carried a sign about Brando’s alleged homosexuality. Brando would later pay his respects to the American Nazi Party by portraying George Lincoln Rockwell in the television adaptation of Alex Haley’s book Roots.



Marlon Brando in Roots

Marlon Brando’s performance as George Lincoln Rockwell in Roots is strange to say the least. Brando portrays Rockwell as a slurring deranged racist who likes to hide in the shadows of swastikas. Brando acts nothing like the real Rockwell whose father was a vaudevillian comedian. Rockwell’s father “Doc” was friends with such vaudevillian Jewish performers as Benny Goodman, Groucho Marx, Jack Benny, and the perverted propagandist Walter Winchell. George Lincoln Rockwell was more a gag comedian than he was a Nazi leader. As a joke and to discredit the holocaust, Rockwell once wrote a bunch of lies about Nazi medical experiments pretending to be an SS officer. He sent the article to the Jewish magazine Sir! and they published it even including stock holocaust death camp photographs. George Lincoln Rockwell also was known for his offensive cartoons of stereotypical Jews and Negroes. Despite inaccurately portraying George Lincoln Rockwell as a humorless psycho in Roots: The Next Generations, Brando won an Emmy for the performance for “Outstanding Supporting Actor.”


The same year he won the Emmy award for his performance in Roots: The Next Generations, Marlon Brando was once again labeled an “Anti-Semite” because of a Playboy Magazine article he did. In the article Marlon Brando stated, "You've seen every single race besmirched, but you never saw an [unfavorable] image of the kike because the Jews were ever so watchful for that—and rightly so. They never allowed it to be shown on screen. The Jews have done so much for the world that, I suppose, you get extra disappointed because they didn't pay attention to that." Almost twenty years later, in 1996 Marlon Brando’s thought on the Jews and Hollywood didn’t change. On Larry King live in April 1996 Brando stated, “"Hollywood is run by Jews; it is owned by Jews, and they should have a greater sensitivity about the issue — of people who are suffering. Because they've exploited — we have seen the Nigger and Greaseball, we've seen the Chink, we've seen the slit-eyed dangerous Jap, we have seen the wily Filipino, we've seen everything but we never saw the Kike. Because they knew perfectly well, that that is where you draw the wagons around." By now Brando should have known that without mentioning the Jews unless it’s in regard to their “suffering” or “achievements” is borderline “Anti-Semitism.”


Marlon Brando was easily one of America’s greatest acting sons and possibly an “Anti-Semite.” Brando was a rebel in the truest sense in that he sought to destroy whatever institution or group was dominant whether it be through protest or financial support. Marlon Brando is the perfect example of someone who has suffered from the irrational and childish slander technique of being labeled with stereotypical “Anti-Semite” canard. Brando was sure no fascist as he was a strange and peculiar individualist. Hollywood should be roman saluting his grave for all the help Brando gave them whether it be moneymaking, activism, or political subversion.

-Ty E

Interview with Thistle Harlequin

Thistle Harlequin is an accomplished professional body piercer and star of the shock viral video Putrid Sex Object. For more information on him, visit ThistleHarlequin.com

SS: How did the director convince you to star in Putrid Sex Object?

TH: This is actually a funny story. I find it quite sexy. I was visiting my friend and watching her dance at some local hole in the wall bikini bar. She mentioned that her ex-boyfriend wanted to talk to me about filming me fuck a pigs head for $30 or whatever. I was intrigued, and I called him the next morning.

SS: How would you describe the experience? Is it something that you would do again?

TH: It's actually something I've sorta done before. Not the actual ejaculating and fucking the eye socket of a skinned cows head but I've go-go danced drenched in cows blood with other animal body parts (nothing you can't find at the butcher, though sometimes special order) and have performed body modification rituals with AMF at some clubs/bars in Hollywood. It's just meat, it's just like jacking off with a piece of uncooked meat. Same thing, different body parts.


SS: What is the response that you have gotten from those that have seen the film?

TH: I get more haters than lovers. I love reading the haters remarks, a lot of them are like mad at world or themselves or something because they say they want to kill me and they will if they find out where I live (so they say) but if that were the case why haven't they killed me already? And they all claim to themselves that I was molested when I was child, when I really wasn't but I think it's just them that got raped or something and they are taking their hatred out on me for whatever reason, but maybe they're just jealous because a hott guy like me (that looks like a hot female) fucked a skinned cows head and they can't even get laid because they're soo ugly, so they're mad. Anyways, the lovers are some great people, very supportive and want to be informed of what's next. Some of the lovers get a little bit creepy at times because they think I'm really into fucking animals and they want like details and what else do I do and blah blah blah...I'm sure they want to hear things that they do that I don't do, so they have someone to talk about their experiences and so they don't feel ashamed. But whatever, lol... they're talking to the wrong person. I was on a bunch of Xanax too when we filmed (I do have a prescription, by the way) but we made the film during the time I was abusing alcohol and Xanax just for fun. You know, kids these days...


SS: Have you ever received “hate mail” from an animal rights activist? If so, How did that go?

TH: Luckily, no hate mail from Animal Rights people. And the video has been on the net for about 3 years, so I think it's too late anyways.

SS: How did you manage to stimulate yourself for the scene?

TH: Actually...I really didn't. Maybe it was because I was drunk and my friend, the camera guy, was a guy, and I like guys and he was watching my masturbate? I dunno...it felt kinda stupid really, but I just did what I thought I had to do. Also we took a travel DVD player and I took some porn, but since I'm a cheap ass and my gay pornos are burnt DVD's, they didn't play on the DVD player so I got stuck rubbing pig intestines around my ass. That actually did feel good...

SS: Where did you happen to acquire a cow head?

TH: My friend, who's idea it was (the camera guy) ordered it from the local Mexican meat market. It took like 5 days to special order it and we originally wanted a pigs head but it was like 4x' s more expensive and it would have taken longer to receive also (I don't know why). And before we shot, it was in his fridge for like 5 days, because it wouldn't fit in his freezer...so it probably wasn't that sanitary...oh well. lol

SS: Has anyone in your family seen the film?

TH: That's a funny question. My boyfriend of 5 years at the time wanted to break up with me because he was sooo disgusted by it. I kept trying to explain to him that I used to do this before I met him and it's just performance, not something I'm into. He still to this day hates it and talks shit about it, but we're still together. We've moved on, it's not that big of a deal, I don't think it's anything to make a fuzz about at all. But he's raised Christian, I was raised Catholic though (guess that sums it up, huh?) lol Anyways, I know my little sister has seen it, she's 16 right now and she was 14 when she saw it. She looks up to me, she knows me, she knows how I am... and she hasn't told my parents about it, even she knows not to tell them because they are really strict Mexican Catholic Old School Traditional... so even she knows not to tell them because she'll get in trouble to watching it. She's a smart girl. I have an order sister too, she's actually a teacher at my High School (she was training when I was in school) and we haven't talked about it, but I'm sure she's seen it too. And if my parents do see it, I think they'll be over it. I don't think I can surprise them anymore, they kicked me out of my house 4 days after graduation after searching my room and finding a photo shoot set. It was either "burn these pictures or get the fuck out of our roof" and I really loved that photo shoot, it was my 2nd one, though illegal cuz I was 15 and nude in them, but I decided to leave. And my dad came back 2 min. later with boxes and told me to start packing. 4 days later, they begged me to move back, but I had discovered the Hollywood party lifestyle, so I chose to stay living on my own. (I did have a job and I was couch hopping)


SS: Did any particular actors, film makers, or films influence you during the production of Putrid Sex Object?

TH: Ummm...maybe just Divine and John Waters. And maybe my friend Lenora Claire. I've kinda looked up to her since she's started out young and in Hollywood and in the same scene just like myself.

SS: Do you have any plans for acting and possibly directing films in the future? If so, what are some ideas that you have?

TH: I don't have any plans other than just being in more underground "cult" films like this. I hope to be in more and I hope be like the "next" Divine, not necessarily her, but along the same lines. "Future Cult Icon Thistle Harlequin"...of course I love Edith Massey too, and well John Waters and I have the same birth date, that's ironic.

SS: Do your see yourself as someone that may start a new type of subversive art in regards to film making and beyond?

TH: Nah... There's a lot of Japanese porn out there that's pretty gross, like with eels and stuff. I've seen other stuff with guts too, after I made this film. Unless we come up with something totally new, but it seems like everythings already been done, and I'm not down to fuck live chickens. That's really disgusting (to me) so is getting fucked by a horse. I stay away from any animal genitals. It grosses me out when I see my hairless cat licking his cock, he sticks it out and it's all pink and pointy.

SS: What are your other interests besides film and modeling?

TH: I'm a professional body piercer. I'm into the Occult, into the paranormal, taxidermy and postmortem 1800's Victorian funeral memorabilia type of stuff, I have the most beautiful coffin in my bedroom and it's been used too. I like racist jokes (but I'm not racist-- those are just the funniest) & jokes about stereotypes. I like opiates too..oops is that too much info? Oh and I love vintage gay porn!

SS: How did you get into modeling and come up with your Thistle character?

TH: I kinda came up with Thistle, I liked it and got it from this "gothic" poetry magazine from back when I was a teen (95) cuz the drawing of the goth boy on the cover looked like me (skinny frail boy) and it's been my nickname every since. I then came up with the Harlequin part about a decade later when I was trying to make a "club kid" name for myself. An online friend helped me pick it out, and it just fit. The rest is history. It's became my character. When I go out to clubs and bars and well just in general in the club scene, especially the deathrock scene, everyone knows who I am, they know me by Thistle Harlequin. I started young.

SS: Thanks for your time, Thistle. Any last statements you’d like to say to any aspiring fetishists or potential leaders of a new form of art?

TH: Say NO to Drugs!

You can view Putrid Sex Object directly on Thistle Harlequin's site. Photo's courtesy of ThistleHarlequin.com

Cry-Baby

Cry-Baby is the undeniable mainstream cult success of John Waters' career. Although Pink Flamingos is more known to the midnight movie crowd, Cry-Baby steals the limelight with Johnny Depp and mock-Grease antics. John Waters might be attempting to parody "high school musicals" but his film ends up in the ditch prematurely after the defining points are far too few and the plot never elevates properly to be diagnosed as a structured film.


Angst has never reached such a low point. The moment a tear streams down Depp's baby face is the day I cried for the woes of being a "normal" departure for Waters. Having seen Hairspray (Original), I decided that Waters is also a competent director for films that aren't lurid escapades of sexual delinquents. Even though Cry-Baby is Waters' first major studio production, the cult success allows me to see past the brainless entertainment and romance inserts to spot a form of amateurism evident mainly by the lack of a finale or proper build-up.


The 50s fashion of rockabilly is transferred impeccably thanks to the keen eye of John Waters. He always did have a way with "period pieces" and the costume department. For a musical, this film is potentially stale. Of the song numbers, only few turn out to be catchy. The rest mainly exist to piece together the story by implementing plot devices and personality traits. If the songs were to be removed, much of the characters would never be explored but the film would have a smoother transition from film to music. A clashing of art mediums should be both entertaining and memorable. Cry-Baby is definitely entertaining but lacks in memorability save for Traci Lords.



Cry-Baby mainly stays fashionably afloat thanks to the soundtrack, Depp's fan phenomenon, and sheep to the herd. During many of the scenes, I found myself shouting "OH COME ON!" while rolling my eyes. This strenuous activity did spare my eyes from a majority of shameful scenes of girls doing double back flips into the arms of Johnny Depp for a quickly thought up ending. Cry-Baby isn't anything special, least not for me to continue expressing my thorough distaste for this film. I'll just say that I did not like Cry-Baby and leave it at that. Also, John Waters has a natural talent for finding ogreish looking people. This review is dedicated to Hatchet-Face and not the obese Ricki Lake. Suck it up.

-mAQ

Ma mère

It's easy to see that French feminist Catherine Breillat composes most of her daring sexuality based on the text works of French shock-eroticist author and auteur Georges Bataille who is perhaps known best for his alluring novella Story of the Eye. From his posthumous work comes the polished after-result that is Ma mère. In what was a highly controversial creation comes a film that might be as controversial as the novel was intended. From stark perversions and dark helpings of incest and other forms of sodomy is where Ma mère reigns over most.


Isabelle Huppert (The Piano Teacher) plays a daring role as Hélène, the mother of a sheltered religious boy who has yet to jump the transcendence from boy to man. He represents a spiritual force of one who should be sympathized with as he crosses a point as loveless virgin to sadist. try as they might but I could not favor this character in any way, in fact, I can't bring up another character to mind that I loathe more than this one. He's ruined life, love, and linguistics in order to satisfy his selfless ways. It's this powerful emotion evoked in me that morphs Ma mère from simpleton French film to a thematic motion picture worthy of a viewing.

Postmodern French femininity.

The only scene celebratory of his character is in which he is on the beach in company of the incredibly lovely Emma de Caunes. He looks slightly behind him and notices a crying child. In effort to comfort him, he questions the child's native language, first asking if Spanish then Italian. The mother grabs the child and walks the crying child out of camera view. In this bright scene, a light is shown in a dark corridor and a sense of humanity has been revealed. Before you can get too comfortable with a character that is enjoyable, it's all ripped out of underneath when Pierre forces Hansi (de Caunes) to enact a sadistic game of torture upon the adorable and eccentric Loulou.

Right: Emme de Caunes

Hélène has picked her son up from his cozy environment and has been placed in an abode of sex, degradation, prostitution, and with incestuous scene set-ups spotlighting Hélène as the partisan of the group that enforces a fast lifestyle of sex, drugs, and rock n' roll. Ma mère also happens to be one of a very small number to be rated NC-17. This rating is mainly for the "aberrant" sexuality displayed mercilessly in Ma mère. Pierre divulges in an early public demonstration of the meaning of getting his "salad tossed" while his mother stares coldly in his direction. Pierre early on in the film was a victim of a social-sexual phobia resulting in his lack of cleanliness and ability to act mature in crowded situations. Not even past the credits will Pierre become a man like his father was.


Ma mère is indeed a daring exercise, both in displaying vulgar perversions and lurid nudity but also in adapting a Bataille novel to the screen. The chemistry between Louis Garrel and Isabelle Huppert is electrifying and forbidden. As their lips become mere inches apart from each others, you either deny an attraction behind incest or welcome the cinematic sexual advances of such a provocative film. Either or, you will notice the emotions and you might even urge towards the screen for the star-crossed lovers to finally accept the common embrace.


In the final scene, you will become exasperated with feelings of regret or glad that you witnessed this perplexing experience. When questioned about Ma mère being incestuous in regards as to "why I watch the films I do", I answer the simple truth. Ma mère is concerning the dissolution of organized religion and the advances of sin and perversion, all the while containing light scenes of incest. One thing's for certain, in the final frame, you will either laugh out loud or remain boldly silent as you witness a man who has lost it all on the verge of a frantic sexual breakdown. Ma mère's verdict is judged better than half of Breillat's shitty works about femininity and the discovery of adolescence.

-mAQ

A Bittersweet Life

I've heard nothing but solemn praise towards this Korean film. Regarding my preliminary viewing, I refused to accept a summary of the film. Like with all my Korean cinema, I prefer to have the entire experience to be fresh and immaculate. At the end of the day, A Bittersweet Life is plentifully engaging and another prime example of the superiority of the Koreans crafted art. Stylish, cunning, and with mastered formulas, Korean films are the best of the lot. They do what we do even better. As with the "sad hitman/bodyguard/enforcer" lifestyle, this film not only manages to breathe life into an archetype that is populated with persona clones (Bangkok Dangerous, No Mercy for the Rude, The Professional, Another Lonely Hitman). While some of these films may fare exceptionally well or even be masterpieces, A Bittersweet Life really does something fresh.


One of which that A Bittersweet Life does better is the outstanding direction of the "Action" scenes. I quote action there to illustrate that the idea of action isn't an idea that is focused upon. The philosophy of combat and explosions, thrilling tense environments, are nowhere to be found. What is presented are series of brutality, plain and simple. A Bittersweet Life excels in delivering the facets of a powerful melodrama even in the midst of a final shoot out that gives Hard-Boiled a run for it's money. Many of the theory's of set art follow from Korea's earlier Oldboy. Much of the key thoughts are provoked here save for a certain twist at the end of Oldboy.


Much of A Bittersweet Life revolves around subtext, as you will. The theme of revenge is tossed around quite a bit, shaking up loyalties and providing a code of the Korean mob. During a dialogue-driven scene, a line in particular will sum up the life philosophy of this film - “No one can ever see what’s coming next.” This provides a set-up for the ultraviolent extended climax that caps off the glorious pride/honor drama that A Bittersweet Life accompanies. In the final moments of the film, you see Sunwoo demonstrating two moments of happiness and we're not talking about his effort to normalize with several cans of Guinness. We watch behind glass as Sunwoo cracks a smile while watching Heesoo play the cello and also, his flashback to shadowboxing in the reflection of a glass window over the comforting metropolitan skyline.


You might sense familiarity with Lee Byung-hun's face etched in the back of your mind. His performance in Three Extremes' Cut guaranteed the set of three films at least a bit of commercial success as how the other two films did nothing for me, really. If you haven't seen any of his work, you most certainly will with the release of G.I. Joe: Rise of Cobra come this summer/fall. A Bittersweet Life is filled with "bittersweet" moments such as his encounter with a gun for near the first documented time. Soon thereafter, he must "race" putting a gun back together in order to deliver the finishing blow on a humorous character. Such an action could not be complete with a horrible consequence.


A Bittersweet Life is something to marvel at. It's organic and structured similar to a double helix strand. One could shower Taxi Driver with acclaim for introducing an incredibly violent character whose only weakness remains love, but the timeline stretches farther over Scorsese's head than realized. He only commercialized the nihilistic tone of violence and the beauty of vengeance. With symphony-like composed scenes of murder placed delicately over a light classical jingle, you can not go further. His initial entrance into the hotel marks a scene that makes relatively cheerful music something to once again fear. Films rarely get better than this. Well, maybe the Bollywood remake entitled Awarapan will capture something this missed, but I doubt it.

-mAQ

The King

No Christian is full of more shit than one of those that lead a life of “sin” and than decide it's time to atone for their sins and become reborn. Instead of drugs or gangbangs, these born again Christians find their new “high” in the form of making an ass of themselves by promoting Jesus like some deranged civil rights campaign. The pastor David Sandow in the film The King has found Jesus to be the ultimate outlet for his con man campaign for Christianity. But what happens when pastor David gets a visit from a half-Latino young man claiming to be his bastard son? What would Jesus do?


It seems as of recent that incest has been really hitting the mainstream. I guess if your ½ sibling is biracial it isn’t as bad as there is more genetic diversity. Elvis Valderez is not interested in telling his ½ sister that they are related. It doesn’t take long for this suave psychopath to get into the pants and into the hole of his holy sister. Like Jesus, Elvis is a rebel that is ready to breakdown social morals and barriers. Elvis is played by the charming Mexican actor Gael García Bernal. Knowing how Bernal is a heartthrob with the ladies nowadays, I found his role as Elvis to be quite refreshing. I always thought of Bernal as a sort of stupid model type, but his performance in The King leads me to believe that he’s a serious actor.


The talented actor William Hurt stars in The King as the Christian pastor David. Hurt is a multidimensional actor that can play both flamboyant homosexuals like he did in Kiss of the Spider Woman or a dirty mick mafia guy like he did in A History of Violence. In The King, William Hurt completely pulls off his performance as pseudo-wise and holy pastor. Pastor David is your typical backwards Christian false prophet. A family con man that feeds off the idiocy of those rural peasant folk who still have superstitions about Jesus and his righteous. Pastor David is essentially one of last remnants of a dying faith.


The disturbingly weak looking Paul Dano stars as pastor David’s spiritually impotent son Paul. Paul, like the putrid Saint Paul, spreads his Christian message for gentile dupes. Despite his “strong religious background,” Paul seems to be a soulless individual who has never lived a day in his life. It is as if Jesus drained him of his last pint of energy. Thankfully for Paul, his unknown ½ brother helps out with his desire to one day meet Christ. One could say that The King is a truly religious experience.


The Antichrists of Hollywood have done a lot to mock Christ and his message in history. Whether it be the homoeroticism of Cecil B. DeMille’s biblical films or a priest getting stoned in Detroit Rock City, Hollywood has all Christ hating angles covered. The King is different in that it is a complete defilement of the “ideal” Christian nuclear family and its values. What better defiler than the bastard son (Jesus?) of a Latino mother?

-Ty E

Tampon Tango

From the realms of absurdity and from the magmatic hatred of Chakan: The Forever Man comes perhaps the most bizarre, narcissistic attempt at making a porno. Hell, film for that matter. I could attempt to dissect the contents before your eyes in hopes that you too could see the batty mind behind this film. This is the exact reason why I will begin to illustrate the events for you, visually. Take heed that this might be the most visually venomous theme of pornography ever brainstormed upon.


With the Japanese believing they are the sole proprietor and pioneers of high art, the director also has an egotistical vision of a film separate from American cinema. This might explain why the first scene is the director howling "To hell with the US! To hell with Herpes!" in a megaphone. Only from this pivotal scene of craziness could the subversive elements float to the surface. Tampon Tango was definitely an experiment in a personal vision, in way, this vision might be TOO personal. In no way could the director have made this film for the fans of obscure cinema of today. There really is no logical reason for a film of this degree to be produced.


The scenes continue to stack with a followed shot of Japanese couples "necking" and dry-humping on a public sidewalk. We are soon introduced to a rag-tag Japanese "Real World" crew. After discussing their intention to practice fornication in a van, they rest at a beach so two of the lady companions can deodorize their soapy vagina's in brackish waters. During this quest of femininity, Defcon 5 is triggered with a meteorite warning indicator flashing on screen. A space rock lands on one of the females craniums issuing a bloody nose. The loony, impassioned director begins screaming for more tampons at this point. Cut to two naked Japanese men running over sand dunes with a plethora of tampons tied to their dicks while hollering a war cry. As a member of the audience, you really don't know what to do. You can either brave through the rest of these unnatural occurrences or get out while the getting is good.


To become of an accomplished genre, sex scenes are inimitably placed in a verbose manner. To call this portion of the film difficult would be an understatement. To film the human body as an intimate instrument is an achievement. The director has done the exact opposite and composed shots of intercourse as to appear grotesque and deformed. Greasy Chink flesh flapping and squishing together in a non-rhythmic performance in horribly edited loops makes up most of the running time. Had the antics been stretched more, Tampon Tango would have fit within its boundaries perfectly. However, the slack stretches over the line thanks to sex scenes that will leave you gasping for breath. Eat your heart out, Bat Pussy.


To pick up for any inconveniences, we're treated to a slam-bang finale including and not limited to a three-piece marching band in ironed skirts, an enormous paper-mâché tampon, a giant meteorite crashing through the ceiling, punk guys initiating a bi-family orgy of confetti, streamers, and festive screaming. Tampon Tango acknowledges what it is and perfects the formula other than the sex. It is equal parts insanity and unflattering sex scenes. Had the potency of the intercourse been toned down, Tampon Tango would appear more honed and polished. One of the most illustrious and talented shots of the film is a mid-edited scene of a man doing a back handspring and during the middle of his flip his clothes are removed resulting in a flawless frame rate -- Thus cementing a true piece of cinemagic, although tasteless.


Of course through out this "anti-American film" piece, we have many true-to-life stereotypes being played out by those of the mocked nationality. Women remark disgustedly at the size of their partner's fuzzy penis before performing putrid fellatio upon him. The only aspect that I could deem erotic is the project itself. There's something arousing about a film as goofy as this. Call it whatever you will but it's more of an aesthetic appreciation. Tampon Tango is the most obscure and bizarre film I've ever had the pleasure to see. As it may be, I took this film far too seriously upon my preliminary viewing but I can tell you this; I look forward to introducing my fellow town residents to this mock up of the porn industry. I'm just not sure how many of these chosen will retain their sanity. I sure as hell know I didn't.

-mAQ

Embodiment of Evil

I cannot think of a single film more dreadfully awaited than Coffin Joe's blazing finale to an untitled trilogy that began with At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul and remained left open with This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse. His recently announced Encarnação do Demônio (Embodiment of Evil) sent shock waves through the horror community, or rather, those lucky enough to have heard of the icon's terrifying legacy of subversive and philosophizing horror film of macabre dreams. Something didn't rest well with me. Something was returning to the surface.


As the teaser poster "teased" fans with Coffin Joe's memorable razor nails protruding for a grate in a cell, these bold colors and magnificently well shot stills brought a similar experiment in neo-revivification; Dario Argento's desperate The Mother of Tears rings steady in my mind. Argento replaced hallucinogenic set pieces and the giallo tradition of supernaturally violent deaths with exceptional lighting and cinematography destroying most ambiance and replacing the complex murders with a gore bath worthy of a French new-wave feminist film. Terror filled my heart and just like Coffin Joe in his latest installment, I too was filled with fantastical visions of future suffering. Could you have guessed that Embodiment of Evil isn't the worst film to come out this year? It isn't the worst but I'd have a difficult time finding one more disappointing than this expedition in frequent nudity and pointless gore.


In the final moments of This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse, the exalted Coffin Joe exclaimed "God! I believe in your power!". Of course the line originally read "I don't believe in God! I'll be back!" but censors wouldn't pass the film unless this ending was changed. Jose Mojica Marins decided to find a lookalike to film some additional footage in the aesthetic style of his 60s endeavors. Incredible lookalike Raymond Castile plays the part reenacting Marins' vision for his second film. Thus leaves the entrance of the third film a bit more explained, but this is not the redemption the film needs. It's never explained how Zé do Caixao ended up being imprisoned. All we realize is that upon his release, his outside community has changed drastically. This is displayed rather crudely and comically as Joe stares disapprovingly at 2 dark "slumdogs" on the sidewalk huffing inhalants.

Like any intelligent man, Marins first attempts to relive the intelligence of his dreary monologues of the past by visually inserting ideals of the continuity of blood line in newcomers psyche's. In the past, his words had a rustic value. Each individual syllable grates your ear canal with often pretentious but magical words illustrating Coffin Joe's intentions for life, death, and his revival (sort of) within a perfect child conceived by a perfect woman. In the past, Coffin Joe has been known to torment his beautiful captors with terror games including spiders and snakes. In the present, he would much rather cover them with cheese to insert a rat in their vagina. Yeah, that totally wasn't stolen from American Psycho or anything. To be ridiculously fair, few scenes stand out amongst the garbage. Coffin Joe mating under a torrential rain of blood is quite fascinating and a women sewn inside a pig corpse make up most of the prime scenes of this film.

The magic of Coffin Joe is gone, evaporated. I still immensely enjoy his classic outings, even his pseudo-film experiments such as Hallucination of a Deranged Mind and Awakening of the Beast, but this new film is an absolute disgrace to be in the same list as At Midnight I'll Take Your Soul and This Night I'll Possess Your Corpse. Clever vintage antics have been replaced by Big budgeted editing with amazing special effects and stunts involving the degradation of women for no means. Coffin Joe's quest is in vain by this time and he's too old to have any of the screen presence that he has been known in the past for. The best method of making a choice if you should see this is clear. If you liked Argento's The Mother of Tears, go for it. Give this film a chance it doesn't deserve but don't say I didn't warn you. The day I see Coffin Joe busting shots at corrupt police officers would be the day I decided to hang up the towel. After roughly explaining the plot, my friend responded "You mean like Saw?". Yes Derek, like Saw.

-mAQ