Misunderstood Movies

“Anamorph” – dir. Henry Miller (2007)

Tragic tragic tragic hero, have a drink. Pull out of your desk & poor into your coffee. Right in the middle of a police station, where all the cops sit & type. Drink while driving to the crime scene. Drink at the crime scene? i think so, but it’s blurred & – are you having a flashback? Awesome, it’s violent & strange. The multiple perspectives are in your blurred memories as they are in (@?) the murder site because you, the prime focal point, are the object[-ive] shining along a spectrum. You have the eye. And the matching sentiment. You are the Detective.

“The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus” – dir. Terry Gilliam (2009)


Leave Mind at home & somehow get to the theatre safely without event. There is not a moment to waste in haste or foolish banter, just go. Wait!, on second thought, instead of leaving your Mind at home, smoking in your easy chair wearing your red satin robe & designer slippers, bring it along. Be kind and allow your Mind to smoke one of your favorites along the way. Why the favorites? Why spoil the Mind? Between you & me, this indulgence is really a last meal. The Reason: that which is leaving the house will not be the same returning: the bar of expectations will comb the giraffes’ toupee. Gilliam discovered CGI.

The Mind will not mind. In fact, the Mind will appreciate the reward of watching “The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus”. So yes, bring the Mind. Think of the reward as a relief from the immediate realities pressing upon its perceptions & imaginations. Unlike “Shutter Island” – dir. Martin Scorsese (2010), the explanation of the mind given by Doctor Parnassus has its merits or rather psychological History as discoursed by East & West. So, go ahead entreat the long hours of your labor by expanding the Mind’s memories & experiences through the expansion of consciousness affected by the movie’s multiple moral points & overall theme. Acute this description through the urgencies & throbbing will of the subconscious, all painted on storytelling screen. Rich & chewy, filth & dirt unfiltered, reality at its source. An aesthetic (anesthetic?) document of the human experience built up in satire, Devil’s details & Gnostic undercurrents – all guided through anal execution. Rushed?


"Play Misty for Me” – dir. Clint Eastwood (1971)


Picking up girls at bars is the best. The best entertainment. The best life-changing experiences. The best way to get rid of your maid & police chief. Simply the Best. If you begin to question why disbelief has been suspended thus far, question first if the question is fair. (Within the context almost two score years past, such films, such stories, interpretations & executions were… almost but not quite at the level of story-telling used to request a song on the radio. “Play ‘Misty’ for Me,” the female voice says coolly. Too coolly & Eastwood is pulled by her charm. In regards to the techniques used to – for example – convey a scene accumulating in angst, fear & violence, the repetition in itself is refined & unexpected, jumping back & forth from the point of view of the sadist to the sadist’s victim, then to the point of view of the masochist to the masochist’s tormentor. Scenes shot from the distance of a mirror & those shot on high hills & helicopters show: the act of traveling. We are lead to observe from the distance of our own reflections or from a distance of watching the details of ants’ labor. The dialog alone summons nostalgia for simpler times. A little too simple at times. Bite into a water-filled rock & assimilate.

“Cat in the Brain” – dir. Lucio Fulci (1990)


The intro will definitely make you hungry. May I recommend eating Italian food in honor of the director, of course? The spaghetti with meatballs in thick marinara sauce? Yes, mam, we do serve such a dish. Allow me to clear these table fixtures out of the way – the spaghetti was ready before you ordered it. What do you mean your spaghetti is moving? It came straight from the kitchen. My eyeballs are meatballs and one’s killing while the other watches? And, you say, the meatballs are really people, not eyeballs. I don’t believe my eyes, i mean, ears.
If only what i saw could be seen by a third-party, if a second-party confirmed & denied what the first & third party reacted to, if the details were exaggerated with hunger, then I’d say we would be able to show the Cat in the Brain.
Do you have any crushed red pepper?


“Lunacy” – dir. Jan Švankmajer (2005)


Disclaimer by the director Jan Švankmajer: “Ladies and Gentlemen, the film you are about to see is a horror film, a horror with all the degeneracy that belongs to this genre. It is not a work of art. Today, art is all but dead anyway, in its place is a sort of reflecting advertisement for the face of Narcissus. Our film can be considered to be an infantile tribute to Edgar Allan Poe from whom I have borrowed a number of motifs; and to the Marquis de Sade to whom the film owes its blasphemy and its subversiveness. The subject of the film is essentially an ideological debate about how to run a lunatic asylum. Basically there are two ways of managing such an institution, each equally extreme. One encourages absolute freedom, the other the old-fashioned, well-tried method of control and punishment. But there is also a third one that combines and exacerbates the very worst aspects of the other two. And that is the madhouse we live in today.”

“Moon” – dir. Duncan Jones (2009)


Kafkaesque hopes for the coming of relief when time is unconvincingly provided: soon I will see beyond the present drudgery, the monotonous bore of living on the moon, & be with the one I love, the one I harvest the moon for.

How Many Licks

Junior lollipops are over-rated. Get the good mass-produced Seniors, the kind that comes in many different flavors, because if they were lucky enough to make one fucking good one, (the “fucking” was added for emphasis), then the 10th might be as good if not more. Keep the hits coming.

In dedication to the hits, the following most Internet-searched words of the day are to be used & abused: crocodile needlefish, intellectual ventures, crystal rock, act test, billionaires for wealth care, lugubrious, & act tips.

Crocodile needlefish! What the hell’s in this crystal rock? Intellectual ventures? Just watch the lugubrious billionaires for wealth care take act tests for act tips.

Stock act tip: Lugubrious crocodile needlefish frozen in crystal rock is the new intellectual venture designed for billionaires for wealth care (principally for those who took the act test.

Billionaires for wealth care made act tips and bought crystal rock for enemas. The crocodile needlefish was just not cutting the act test. Lugubrious, it engages in intellectual ventures.

Crystal rock crocodile needlefish are for the billionaires for wealth care. Take this act tip now & boost their lugubriousness into recycled intellectual ventures for the unwitting of tomorrow.

Lugubrious billionaires for wealth care buy crystal rock. Like crocodile needle fish, they pass act tests. These kinds of act tips are no good for intellectual ventures. Stop the fleecing.

Act test, so behave. No act tips. Pure intellectual ventures are in demand. Do not become lugubrious like billionaires for wealth care on crystal rock or crocodile needlefish.

In Crystal Rock City, the lugubrious is worth intellectual ventures for those billionaires for wealth care. Act tips & act tests are abundant in supply due to crocodile needlefish swimming up urethras.

Intellectual ventures behave like act tips that passed the act test. Neither crocodile needlefish, nor crystal rock will provide substitute. There is no just thing as lugubrious billionaires for wealth care. Or is there?

One idea, two words: Google Bombing.

Go to Hell's Pass of the North?

"Go to Hell," she sells tells me. How much for how much, i think. (Did she mean “Hell’s Pass of the North”?)

Of all the things i coulda, would’va should-tilda do, should i do a no-comply? i don’t think i shouldn’t even if i could. i’d like to, kind-of feel obligated to but, but is that within my nature? Left foot, right foot & cozy now with skater shoes, suit & tie, i wonder if i'd end up going to her Hell or to Hell’s Pass of the North. What if i crap it all & go to Hell Paso, Texas? Would i then get an "A" for the effort?

And yet more "Go to Hell"-s. Well, they’re not verbatim but it adds up in the end. Like getting your car bent by careless neighbor-lane parkers or busted eggs post-grocery shopping or, or, or. Each one stretched out in time can easily be forgotten. But in a one-day, in a sequential series & Hell will have to pay for itself.

So, before i go somewhere, i must sit here on Rodin's rock:

We are told to go to Hell. Fine. And we have the ability to tell others to go to Hell. Amen. But what is this act of being told to go to Hell that others, like we, wish to endorse or come to predict?

Stripping down the vehicle, command or insult, it is eh… mostly on average… a naked return of injury, a sort of verbal justice. This Justice mostly affects a balance of the give & take and take & give. Like that blindfolded statue with the toga, sword & scales, Justice is for-the-most-part supposed to be a system of fairness. So for instance, when i tell you to go to Hell, we can assume my self had been insulted – Oh! My beautiful self, why are you so muddy? Mind how a jury will never wholly understand how the accused, the self-described judge was injured; the judge was outside the bounds of pure empathy... This injury felt was on a subjective plane & no articulated tangled mess of reason will fully convey that experience. ~ Weeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiii ~ Whether the judge knows this. or not. at the time of declaring his verdict is only a trivial happenstance. ~ Wheaaaaaaeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiii ~ In short, it is from hell - Did i just hear a violin?? – Anyway this is the main point here, so ignore that bit of the violin – It is from Hell, that one is told to go there. Otherwise, how will the discomfort of Hell be known and thus communicated to another?

Should we come to consider the Status of the almighty person desiring to communicate a mind & body to a place of infamous drudgery? Hell, take an example of a Holy priest who somehow let – allowed – permitted – tolerated - unchecked his/her emotions to get the best of him/her. Would the curse be stronger and uninterruptedly more effective coming out of his/her mouth, considering how his/her emotions went unguarded (somehow)? On the other hand, what if an unHoly priest told us to go to Hell, does his/her unique understanding of Hell have more sway over the state of our Wills? It seems as if this question of status would fluctuate with the Damned's current knowledge of what holy & unholy priests do.

In the unique realm of the Mind, a request to go to Hell & even the act of telling some dot to go to Hell could also be taken as a curse or form of incantation. Would it cause Hell to be told with enthusiasm to go to Hell? As a form of incantation, we can imagine a creative mind's capacity to fathom the depths of Hell, possibly sending it there. "What you see is what you get." "What you feel is what is real." "How does the wheat paste taste?" To rebel & put up a resistance would here indicate a fortified mind with sentries & a moat filled with crocodiles & sharks & zombies; the ease of resistance would show how solid shit that mind is. Got me?

Comparably, being told to go to hell is another way of being told to get bent, go fuck oneself, eat shit, etc. Again, it appears that the person saying this was first bent, fucked, ate shit, etc. But i regress. Of more importance, i wonder if it would cost us too much energy to reverse the flow of negativity by telling a villain that we love them heroically.

Does love cost us more energy than war? Would it be possible to return the insult by flipping the coin, by flipping the negativity, and saying "Welcome to Heaven"?

Her last "Go to hell," echoes away with every fresh remembrance. Ahh, the wind through my hair, looking up, at last i reply "Welcome to Heaven."