Crispin Glover has presented a monumental film that what will surely change cinema forever. Not only does it trace and honor the Afro-American roots that preceded Lumiere by almost a hundred years, but proudly restores that tradition and provides a very subtle critique of the modern movie business.
Profits are nowhere to be found in this low budget homage to Capra and Selznick. Hats off to to Glover for not pulling any punches whilst showing a decadent sequence involving a naked gentleman being ejaculated whilst laying inside a giant oyster. No expense - including excess pubic hair - has been spared.
On another note, I know what you must be thinking in the back of your mind: "wait, I think I have seen a graveyard sex scene before." Perhaps, but was it in the first five minutes? Did involve two fully clothed people with one too many chromosomes (each)? Crispin Glover proves that we have moved beyond the tired old traditions of repetitious childhood storytelling and myths and entered into a new realm wherein we are free to recreate and reimagine what it means to be a theater-going experience.
My long-time partner of two months, Brenda Velasquez, who recently left me, agrees with me. We might be like oil and water and sulfuric acid in the bedroom, but when the curtains go up, we are united before the grandeur of moviedom. Congratulations, Mr. Glover. We love your deliberately ratty film.
Profits are nowhere to be found in this low budget homage to Capra and Selznick. Hats off to to Glover for not pulling any punches whilst showing a decadent sequence involving a naked gentleman being ejaculated whilst laying inside a giant oyster. No expense - including excess pubic hair - has been spared.
On another note, I know what you must be thinking in the back of your mind: "wait, I think I have seen a graveyard sex scene before." Perhaps, but was it in the first five minutes? Did involve two fully clothed people with one too many chromosomes (each)? Crispin Glover proves that we have moved beyond the tired old traditions of repetitious childhood storytelling and myths and entered into a new realm wherein we are free to recreate and reimagine what it means to be a theater-going experience.
My long-time partner of two months, Brenda Velasquez, who recently left me, agrees with me. We might be like oil and water and sulfuric acid in the bedroom, but when the curtains go up, we are united before the grandeur of moviedom. Congratulations, Mr. Glover. We love your deliberately ratty film.