erikwmark
A rejoint le oct. 2010
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Note de erikwmark
Avis30
Note de erikwmark
The most hapless junkie wanders the streets of NYC to snappin' and poppin' space funk. From a midtown hospital to Soho in a gun-manned peopled walk-up. He's murdered and we move to the Amazon. Classic porn man R. Bolla's the cop.
Naïve do-gooders enter the heart of darkness to disprove the myth of cannibalism. Jeep breaks down and grub-eating creepers appear with bloody maws. Malaria does it's business on the back of a python. A panther chomps a monkey.
Perverted by the evil jungle, not unlike Aguirre or Fitzcarraldo, leads to rape and murder as colonial impulse, but oh nevermind. Cutting up turtles for fun and profit. Just a run of the mill coked-up sick white dude trying to get jewels by torturing and killing brown people. Cutting out eyeballs and whatnot.
Back in New York our torturer is revealed as the guy the junkie was looking for at the beginning. Not sure what that has to do with anything. Ooops, looks like they really are cannibals. The innocent tribesmen slice a dude open and eat up his insides. Tricked you! Karma, brother.
"Cannibalism doesn't exist," she says to herself from the watery cage as the Salvation Army band plays. Sing for the brother's heart, sing for the brother's sin. Fin.
Naïve do-gooders enter the heart of darkness to disprove the myth of cannibalism. Jeep breaks down and grub-eating creepers appear with bloody maws. Malaria does it's business on the back of a python. A panther chomps a monkey.
Perverted by the evil jungle, not unlike Aguirre or Fitzcarraldo, leads to rape and murder as colonial impulse, but oh nevermind. Cutting up turtles for fun and profit. Just a run of the mill coked-up sick white dude trying to get jewels by torturing and killing brown people. Cutting out eyeballs and whatnot.
Back in New York our torturer is revealed as the guy the junkie was looking for at the beginning. Not sure what that has to do with anything. Ooops, looks like they really are cannibals. The innocent tribesmen slice a dude open and eat up his insides. Tricked you! Karma, brother.
"Cannibalism doesn't exist," she says to herself from the watery cage as the Salvation Army band plays. Sing for the brother's heart, sing for the brother's sin. Fin.
What would happen if David Lynch mailed in a weak copy of his previous work? It would still probably be more original than this. Starts off well, but as it goes on seems contrived, increasingly predictable, and without understanding what is authentically strange.
