“Thump Milton!” Ree yowls at the figure weaving away amongst the cattle below. It’s a funny name but this isn’t a time for laughing. Ree needs to find her Daddy or at least his remains before the cold comes and the bondsman kicks her family from the house. The trees tower over her, the keepers of Ozark secrets. A table in the woods is smeared with squirrel guts. “Goddamn you Thump.” Ree says and travels home to a silence as wide as a reservoir. For a moment she finds solace in the strings of an old banjo, in her kid sisters jubilant trampoline hops, then she bends over the leaking sink and spits her teeth out.
A man meets the ghost of his childhood in a field in Jersey. Cap fights a Robocop on a bridge. Later, on a bridge, crushing metal, squealing tires, rushing bullets! 90 year olds in the bodies of 30 year olds remember the war, pummel each other in falling spaceships. Cap shares a kiss with ScarJo. A Robocop meets the child of his ghost in a mini-mall in Jersey. Takes place between Avengers movies.
Colorful, garish, lot’s of cool puppets but beyond dumb. A couple sketch comedy dudes try to salvage it and it’s visually pretty creative but the script is such a stinker. Lot’s of gags about how bad the gags are, unsettling comfort with fillicide and uxoricide. I could write better dick and fart jokes on no sleep. This wannabe Meet the Feebles turkey (if I was Thankskilling 3 I’d say, “see what I did there?”) The peice de resistance is an Evil Dead 2 parody. The turkey muppet loses his phallus and replaces it with a chainsaw, he looks at the camera and says, “gravy”. It’s a texturally arresting little piece of hate. Honestly I don’t recall the 1st Thankskilling being much better though.
Super dark Who Framed Roger Rabbit cgi. Weird child molestation undercurrents. Colin Farrell meet-ups in seedy alleyways with abused boys. Cute echindas & naked mole rats. Lotsa wizards shouting, “Evaporota!” Hollywood A-listers transform into other A-listers.
Cuddly, neo-noir, racism parable. The mouse has still got it. The other night I dreamt I met Jenny Slate who voices the sheep secretary. We were on the freeways soft shoulder, it was insect buzzing dusk. I asked her out for coffee and was honored she agreed. I confessed I knew her over creamer, “from comedy” I said as women in mumus milled about sugar caddies. She told me I was over-compensatingly macho in my compliments. I’m sure that’s good advice. Thanks Jenny!
Deterministic, Terrence Malicky Contact. Nice to see aliens that don’t slather for war. Some lifestyle porn, a sick house on the shore, bay windows. Forrest Whittaker shows up for the chosen one, sad Mom, her little wonder buried in the backyard. She falls in love with that one Avenger. The one who doesn’t have powers. Thunderball or something.
The hungry city, puking eyeballs. Sweet, secret-witch artsploitation. Baroque, stylish and the best kind of dumb. Sad and vicious. The neon demon lives in electrical currants coursing through toys for young girls. The neon demon hangs out by the sea, walks around the salt flats, writes letters home. Here’s the neon demon, his mouth on her mouth, her mouth on hers.