YUVAL ADLER’S BETHLEHEM — A REVIEW BY NICK CLEMENT

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Tough, gritty, stark, sad, and all-too-believable, the hard-hitting 2013 Israeli political thriller Bethlehem takes zero prisoners. Yuval Adler’s film explores the volatile relationship between an Israeli secret service officer (the fantastic Tsahi Halevi) and his potentially dubious teenage Palestinian informant (Shadi Mar’i). The film possesses some absolutely devastating final moments which are similar to the pessimistic but inevitable finale of the Palestinian film Omar.  Adler, along with co-writer Ali Wakad, crafted an extremely engaging story rooted in genre thrills, but also managed to explore everyone’s quest of navigating both sides of the socio-political divide within the dense and propulsive narrative. Yaron Scharf’s point blank cinematography was in perfect tandem with Ron Omer’s razor-sharp editing, while Ishai Adar’s minimalist yet suspenseful score sweetens the pot. Bethlehem was the recipient of six Ophir Awards, and screened at the Venice Film Festival, where it won the top prize. It was the official Israeli entry for Best Foreign Language Film, but it was shockingly not nominated. This is a riveting piece of cinema with terrific performances and a downbeat but truthful denouement.

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James Gunn’s Guardians Of The Galaxy Volume 2


James Gunn’s Guardians Of The Galaxy Volume 2, I’m happy to report, blows the first film right out of the water. There’s a subversive, wonderfully sarcastic sense of humour running through both films, as well as a boundlessly creative and colourful canvas of ideas both big and small, coalescing into something just this side of chaos. Picture a stick of dynamite; Volume one is the fuse, fizzling terrifically as it gets off to a great start. In many franchises, by the time the first film uses up the wick and reaches the stick, it’s sequel, the energy is lost and we end up with a dud of a follow-up. Not this baby. Volume two is the stick of dynamite, exploding gloriously across our screens in fits of dazzling imagination, humour that doesn’t quit for a nanosecond and the heart to back it up. Volume one dipped its toe in the water and showed us the roots of what a great space opera might look like, and volume two plunges in to give us just that. We rejoin with the merry band of misfits who now know each other a little better, are more comfortable working as a unit, and blast off into a tale of space battles, living planets and perpetual banter. Chris Pratt’s Star Lord, equipped with a brand new eight track collection of vintage pop songs, is still searching for his real dad when he kind of finds him by accident in the form of Ego, a powerful celestial being slyly played by Kurt Russell. Joining him are the gang we know and love, broccoli hued babe Gamora (Zoe Saldana), deadpan Drax (Dave Bautista outdoes himself in the comic relief department, a true highlight) Rocket (Bradley Cooper, excellent), scowling smurfette Nebula (Karen Gillian), adorable Baby Groot (Vin Diesel, collecting a mortgage-eclipsing paycheque for literally doing nothing) and antihero Yondu (Michael Rooker). Rooker gets far, far more to do here than he did the second time around, becoming a fleshed out character with a terrific arc and a whole pile of scenes, a strong asset to the film. The villain here is way more compelling than Lee Pace’s silly space vampire in Volume One, and I won’t spoil anything but there’s more than a few surprises. Kurt Russell’s living planet is pure delicious eye candy, a vista to rival anything in Star Wars, Mass Effect or similar worlds, detailed and lovingly rendered. As per usual there are cameos, but surprisingly it’s more than the obligatory laundry list of Where’s Waldo fellow Marvel appearances. There are truly inspired name drops here and a few genre titans who show up, none of whom I’ll give away except Sylvester Stallone. He’s given an unassuming supporting role that he plays solidly without tongue in cheek or any hint of a gimmick, just an enjoyable little addition to the cast. James Gunn is a cinematic punk, cracking prudence right in the jaw, throwing caution to the wind and tirelessly churning out the kind of fresh, funny and irreverent films we want to see, scrappy crowd pleasers that people will actually remember, which lord knows is what Marvel needs to shake up their sometimes complacent, too comfortable aesthetic. The soundtrack is obviously a winner, and any film that uses Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain as its main cue has pretty much already won me over. This will probably be the cornerstone of summer blockbuster season, it’s just too much fun and has everything you’d want, with the dial cranked just past what we got the first time around in the best way possible. I am Groot. 

-Nate Hill

MIKE MILLS’ 20TH CENTURY WOMEN — A REVIEW BY NICK CLEMENT

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I’m not sure where we’d be in the film world right now without the erudite efforts of companies A24 and Annapurna. These two production and distribution entities have been responsible for the lion’s share of truly excellent cinema over the last 10 years, and added to that list is the film 20th Century Women, from writer/director Mike Mills (the superb Beginners). Every single creative decision in this film worked for me, there are six or seven lines of dialogue that are absolutely hysterical, there’s isn’t a bad performance in the ensemble, and visually the film is very stylish without ever being ostentatious. A coming of age story for multiple characters set against the backdrop of 1979 Santa Barbara, this is a very liberal and progressive piece, with characters who are all flawed and layered, and rather than focus on contrived plot machinations, Mills allows his story to amble along, just observing these characters, all of whom are in some sort of existential transition.

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Annette Benning (robbed of an Oscar nomination) leads the cast as a single mother raising a teenage son (Lucas Jade Zumann), and who leans on a free-spirited tenant in her house (Greta Gerwig) and her son’s blossoming childhood friend (Elle Fanning) to help him through those emotionally and hormonally frustrating years. Billy Crudup steals all of his scenes as a chillaxed handyman who has ingratiated himself on both Benning and Gerwig. I don’t want to reveal too much more than that, as the pleasure that this film elicits stems from the tender and thoughtful script, the generous performances, the cool and elegant cinematography from Sean Porter (Green Room, Kumiko,The Treasure Hunter), Leslie Jones’ clean, gliding editing, and the utterly sensational soundtrack with killer tracks from Talking Heads, Louis Armstrong, The Raincoats, Devo, David Bowie, and many more. I loved this milieu, with the end of one decade occurring and the beginning of the next taking shape, with punk in the background and sex in the air.

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And yet, for as quality as this film is on every level, nobody saw it. And more importantly, few had the chance even if they wanted to. Saddled with a year-end release date where it had to compete with every awards bait title imaginable, 20th Century Women grossed just over $5 million in theaters and got not foreign release. Totally disheartening, as a film like this, in years past, would have been embraced by audiences as it would have been a studio movie with a hearty marketing budget. But now, thoughtful pieces like this seem better suited to the daring distributors or as television programs; even though Mills beautifully wraps up each character by the end of 20th Century Women, I’d love to see these people expanded upon on the small screen, as a place like Netflix or Amazon seems well suited to this type of elevated material. Mills rightfully received an Oscar nomination for Best Original Screenplay which certainly makes me happy.

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Ballistic: Ecks Vs. Sever


Big. Loud. Dumb. Hollow. Notorious train wreck and box office failure. Ballistic: Ecks Vs. Sever is all of these things, and yet somehow I still got a kick out of it, albeit in the shallow end of the speedometer. I know what you’re thinking.. “wow, another turd that Nate is polishing up with multiple syllable words to make it seem like less of a piece of shit.” Well, you’re not wrong. I fully concede that this is one huge glorious, post Mexican food pile of shit, but there’s something about it that pulls me in every time it shows up on SyFy or some such channel. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s one of those rare films that not only is shot in my hometown of Vancouver, but actually set here too. Mostly Vancity just doubles for Chicago, New York or any other Yankee metropolis, but director Kaos (yes that’s his name) chose to tell the story right here in my little burg. Speaking of story, or lack thereof, it’s one big shredded mess of a plot involving Ecks (Antonio Banderas) and Sever (Lucy Liu) two former federal agents out to get each other, eventually working together and then both becoming chumps in some ludicrous government conspiracy involving arch villain Gant (Gregg Henry, hammy as ever). It makes little to no sense, it’s so convoluted it prompts the viewer to throw their hands up in exhausted defeat and give up hope on any cohesion, instead letting a wave of shitty early 2000’s special effects and over elaborate, unwarranted stunt work to wash over them like a tidal wave of rejected video game cutscenes. And poor Vancouver, looking like a ghost town, just gets blown to fucking smithereens by these trigger happy, matrix wardrobed, scowling lunatics. I’d probably stay off the streets too if Lucy Liu massacring hordes of VPD officers was in the forecast, or on second thought maybe not, that sounds kind of hot. I’m rambling, but any review of this film has the right to get sidetracked and ramble as much as this pile of wanton sound and fury does for the entirety of its scant runtime. It’s disastrous to be sure, but does that stop me picking up the remote and switching over to something else when it’s on? Not really. Plus, despite the actual film, this has to have one of the coolest looking DVD cover posters ever designed. I mean, look at it. 

-Nate Hill

FRANK PAVICH’S JODOROWSKY’S DUNE — A REVIEW BY NICK CLEMENT

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I really enjoy documentaries about movies that never came to be, stuff like The Life and Death of Superman Returns and Lost Soul: The Doomed Journey of Richard Stanley’s Island of Dr. Moreau. And similar to those poignantly enjoyable ruminations on films that never came to pass, Jodorowsky’s Dune, from director Frank Pavich, is a wonderful exploration of one of my favorite subjects: Cinematic Madness. Charting the highs and lows of filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky’s attempts to adapt Frank Herbert’s famous novel for the big screen in the mid-70’s, Pavich infuses humor, celebrity, and eccentricity into his tale of a filmmaker who never stopped believing in himself even when other people around him fell by the wayside. And it’s downright fascinating to see how much of Jodorowsky’s pre-production artwork and designs would end up being used (stolen?) in future sci-fi blockbusters such as Alien and Star Wars, to name only two.

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David Lynch would of course go on to film and release his cult classic version of Dune, while a big-budget remake has been in development for years with filmmakers such as Peter Berg and Pierre Morel coming and going; hot-shot director Denis Villeneuve (Enemy, Arrival, Sicario, the upcoming Blade Runner 2049) is currently working on a version as his next feature film. Jodorowsky’s Dune is a heartfelt tribute to the power of cinema and how this particular art form can grab someone for their entire life and drive them crazy with unfulfilled visions; I bet Herzog is a big fan of this piece of work. I’ve only seen Jodorowsky’s El Topo and The Holy Mountain, so I think it’s time to really delve into this man’s body of work, and I must say, I really, really respect and admire his devotion to simulating the effects of LSD for his audience.

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My date with TASERFACE and other reflections of Vol. 2

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I’ll say this right off the bat . . . if you don’t have fun watching his movie then there is something wrong with you. GOTG was always going to be a tough act to follow. I admit I am not a devotee of the Marvel cinematic universe as it stands; but Guardians is the exception.

From the get-go the music is perfectly placed. I read another review last night before seeing the film that compared Gunn’s music choices to Tarantino’s, and I have to say that comment is dead on as we begin our story with some very nicely done de-aging, and the set-up to what appears to be a beautiful love story.

BOOM!

Right when my son turned to me in the theatre and asked, “Are you sure this is Guardians of the Galaxy?” We find ourselves years later and we’re back with the family guarding the galaxy against a giant, undulating space monster which filters into a super-cool credit sequence.

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ZIP!

Then we are off the Planet Goldfinger where the locals are not unlike the locals in my home town – you have to watch what you say ‘cause they’re easily offended.  Nebula is back with a vengeance and the crew take her and leave, unfortunately, they manage to piss the Goldfingerlings off before that happens.

KABOOM!

Cue the big space battle.  Rocket and Quill are measuring, Drax is matter-of-facting, Nebula is impatient to eat something that aint ripe yet,  Gamora is the only adult in the room and Groot is living dangerously by not wearing his seatbelt.

Just when all hope seems lost they are aided by a mysterious stranger and his pet Mantis. Hey, that dude looks like Jack Burton. Turns out Big Daddy has a giant Ego and a whole planet to himself. But remember children, remember the last guy who used the line, “I am your father!”

So the team splits up, The Junk-Panda, The Twig and the She-borg get embroiled in a mutiny while Star-Lord, Gamora and Drax jump to Ego’s utopia. Hercules was a son of a God and so, as it turns out, is Peter Quill. If you build it, he will come – so Peter and Big Daddy play catch.

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You’re saying, “Hey you haven’t mentioned Yondu.” That’s ‘cause Yondu is the real heart in this movie. And really, that is what Vol. 2 is all about – heart. James Gunn has again crafted a movie that is visually, musically and splendidly comedic across the board – but what turns out to be the guy’s real strength is infusing an awful lot of heart and soul into these characters. It’s an old school talent from back in the days when movies used to be good. The secret being . . . you give a shit about the characters, you want them to win. You can’t make a movie like that with your mind, but you can with your heart, and Vol. 2 has a big one.

So, like I said about the “I am your father line,” well turns out that Daddy Quill aint that wholesome. This leads to a thrilling, break-neck climax that still has time for luck, for laughs, for the unknown – right before tears and glory.

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Vol. 2’s rich palette explodes off the screen, especially if you see it in 3D. The score lifts and throttles with the great themes set up in the first film. There are fun running gags of which Taserface is one of my favourites; it brought to mind Mel Brook’s Men in Tights and the ‘Mervin’ Sheriff of Rottingham scene. Also, like one reviewer I read said, I kinda wish Tango and Cash could have had a brief meeting, for no other purpose but to have it in there for nostalgic purposes. It was cool to see them both in a movie together, and if the post-credits scene is anything to go by, it will be great to see Sly back in these kinds of movies. I loved Demolition Man and, get ready to burn me, Judge Dredd (1995).

If you don’t have fun watching this movie there is something wrong with you, because it is a whole lot of fun and it was a delight to watch it with my son,  even if the only true highlight for him was hearing someone say the word ‘penis’ in a movie. Both cast and crew have crafted and excellent sequel here. I cannot honestly say that it is a sequel that betters the original, but it is a good, strong follow-up to a film that surprised audiences as well as the powers that be.

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Like any good sequel this film had to be the first film and more than the first film. It does succeed and I can easily see how it scored a perfect 100 during the test screening process, as it has all the elements come together in the right place, at the right time – action, laughs, light and darkness.

The guy who wrote Tromeo and Juliet has come a long way. Some have greatness thrust upon them, some are born to it, but James Gunn has, without question, achieved it. I watched his little gem Slither again recently. You get shades of what he would go on to do with GOTG in that film which is at once shocking, funny and touching all thrown into the mix.

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Vol. 2 is great and I, like with the first Guardians, will watch it again and await its Blu Ray release. I think Vol. 3 will be the true challenge for Mr. Gunn now, but, with the success he has garnered, he has earned the right to do it his way. Really, I think I am more eager to see where he goes after he’s done guarding the galaxy.

Look at me, I am old, but I’m happy.

Go see Vol. 2 and as ever . . . happy viewing

THE DUDE IN THE AUDIENCE

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Classic Films: GONE WITH THE WIND

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For the first article in this series, Kyle Jonathan and Ben Cahlamer revisit one of the greatest American films of all time: Gone with the Wind in an attempt to explore not only the film’s undeniable impact, but to perhaps discover if the film has held up throughout the decades.

BEN: It took me a few nights to get through, but I finally watched Victor Fleming’s Oscar-winning epic, Gone with the Wind.  I was not completely familiar with the story, but I’d been aware of several key sequences and the tale of Scarlett O’Hara (Vivien Leigh).  As we follow her tragic story, we learn that the South is preparing for its part in the Civil War, that the men of the South such as Ashley Wilkes, whom Scarlett is very much in love with is a man of words.

KYLE: Being a southerner I grew up with the film and my fraternity watched it once a year as a tradition, so I was deeply familiar with the story, but I was eager to revisit it with a critic’s eye.  What were your initial impressions of the film?

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BEN: Margaret Mitchell created very strong characters in a time when women were very demure, where men were chivalrous, yet they knew how to speak.  Victor Flemings’ direction is tight for a film that runs nearly four hours.  He displays both the gentile Southern plantation life in contrast to the frequent struggles during the war.  Most importantly, he framed the romance and the final sequence with a sensitivity that is rarely seen.   Max Steiner’s score was a fine match to this epic as was Ernest Haller’s cinematography.  There was quaintness in his use of the Academy 1.33:1 aspect ratio, yet he used the frame to its fullest, especially in wartime scenes.  His use of silhouettes created thought-provoking scenes which will live on.

KYLE: The absolute pageantry of the film is perhaps its boldest attribute.  From the sprawling, almost whimsical opening sequence which is then contrasted with Atlanta’s destruction, the viewer is put directly into the past by way of gorgeous costuming, hand drawn backgrounds, and Ernest Haller’s unusual cinematography.  This is an epic film about the darkest time in American history and yet, every frame pulses with life and possibility.

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BEN: I couldn’t help but notice the foundation was laid for many future characters and stories, most notably  in George Lucas’s sprawling space-epic, Star Wars where Ashley is very much the idealist that Luke would be, willing to serve, yet not completely understanding his place; Rhett Butler, very much like Han Solo:  “I am neither noble nor heroic.  But you are a blockade-runner.  For profit and profit only.  I don’t believe in the cause.  I only believe in Rhett Butler.  He’s the only cause I know”; finally, the fiercely independent Scarlett O’Hara, whose world crumbles before her, only to see her stand up and become the very thing she understood, yet abhorred:  someone who would have to stand on her own two feet, who could not be loved by a man of similar character as she.

KYLE: I think one of the things that struck me while on this revisit was that both Scarlett and Rhett are…not good people.  This is a story about how two potent personalities come together out of inconvenience and sheer will that plays out amidst a war.  The notorious rape scene was particularly jarring, as is the treatment of slavery and slave characters; however, these controversies have been discussed and dissected for years.  For me, it was the idea that these are two selfish souls whose ultimate failure of a relationship makes them confront the consequences of their uncontrolled hubris and gives a glimmer of hope for their futures.

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BEN: I found myself shocked by the last frame of the film, because somewhere within the character of Scarlett O’Hara, she cared.  She cared for her children, she cared for Rhett.  I don’t think she was capable of showing that emotion, lest her steel shield of independence crumble.  As much as it shocked me, I am certain this is why she won the Academy Award that year.

I am recommending Gone with the Wind.

KYLE: We are in agreement!

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Episode 45: SILVERADO and Top Five Danny Glover

Episode 45

Join Frank, Tim, Kyle and Jason Callen from The Phi Effect podcast as they discuss Lawrence Kasdan’s SILVERADO and their top five Danny Glover performances!

The Art Of War


Everyone loves a Wesley Snipes flick. If it’s decent, that is, and these days he’s been churning out some sewer muck. Back in the day, however, he had some bangers, which includes The Art Of War. Wesley heads up an elite tactical team here, secretly employed by the United Nations, hired to do all kinds of cloak and dagger stuff, including securing trade deals, eliminating potential threats and maintaining cooperation from all sides. Run by a well spoken Donald Sutherland and Anne Archer, it’s a low key ‘fight fire with fire’ situation, until it all goes tits up and Snipes is framed for the murder of some bigwig Chinese dirtbag. Forced to contend with Triads, government factions and his own former partner gone rogue (Michael Biehn steals every scene, as usual), it’s a nice set up for a serviceable, above average action yarn. That Oriental influence always seems to make these thrillers seem cooler (ever seen Black Rain or Rising Sun?) which helps as well. Snipes and Biehn are livewires though and have a fantastic silenced pistol duel late in the third act, which is one slick showcase of a sequence. Not a whole lot to this one, but as an entertaining garden variety actioner, it holds up just fine. 

-Nate Hill

Southland Tales

Southland Tales

2007.  Directed by Richard Kelly.

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“This is way the world ends…”

Generally considered to be the 21st century’s Heaven’s Gate, Richard Kelly’s second feature film was critically annihilated at Cannes and went on to be labeled as one of the worst films of 2007.  In the decade since its release many film lovers have returned to Kelly’s sun washed dystopia to discover a flawed, but brilliant piece of storytelling.  A drug fueled fever dream by way of Bush Era Vonnegut, Southland Tales is a sprawling science fiction epic whose sly predictions for the future are sporadically overshadowed by its wildly creative presentation.

Action star Boxer Santaros is a wanted man, both for an ominous script he possesses about the apocalypse and for his political value to various factions fighting for control of the American dream in the midst of a nuclear tragedy that has sparked World War III.  Kelly’s mammoth script weaves several complicated story lines together to present an all too possible future in which the final days of reality play out in the heart of a new age Los Angeles.  Borrowing heavily from Brazil, Doctor Strangelove, Kiss Me Deadly, and Harrison Bergeron, Kelly’s satirical framework is constantly evolving, never resting on a single point for too long and never settling into a comfortable classification.  The dialogue is packed with odd exchanges and wooden comedy that at first appears unsettling and out of place.  However, as the story expands to reveal the terrible knowledge at its center, the awkwardness becomes both hilarious and terrifying.  This is the end, with the volume turned up to eleven.

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Kelly’s cast is packed with pop culture icons and cinematic fixtures, blending the elements of the past he seeks to homage with the stars of the future he seeks to warn.  Dwayne Johnson gives the best performance of his career as Santaros, the cardboard tough guy who immediately folds at the slightest hint of violence, a complete reversal of his wrestling personality.  Sarah Michelle Gellar’s turn as a porn star turned talk show host is a loving condemnation of the electronic generation that dovetails with Miranda Richardson’s devious establishment matron.  Seann William Scott plays twin brothers, one a corrupt cop the other a rebel in the fight against the system and his final scene with these characters is one of Southland’s many guilty pleasures.  Justin Timberlake rounds out the cast as an omnipotent narrator, a wounded veteran who watches over the Southland through the lens of a high powered rifle, using temporal narcotics to induce surrealistic musical sequences and heartbreaking emotional connections.

Southland Tales is a convergence of thematic ideals in which Kelly dabbles, but never commits.  It unabashedly criticizes the war on the terror and the patriot act while taking its time to comment on the pursuit of energy and its irreparable consequences for our men and women in uniform.   Timberlake and Scott’s unique portrayals of PTSD, supported by outlandish visuals from Steven Poster are both haunting and uniquely respectful.  Police Violence and domestic terrorism are ever present specters, looming in the azure sky above a city that lost itself long before nuclear calamity, while religion; both the worship of spiritual and mundane idols is perhaps Southland’s strongest theme, using T.S. Eliot and passages from Revelations to sing its lollipop dirge of an inconvenient Armageddon.

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The soundtrack is one of the film’s strongest attributes, blending perfect song choice with sharp editing to present the City of Angels’ final days as an intoxicating collision of violence, love, and hope.  Hope that we’ll maybe we’ll get it right the next time around.   There are a handful of strange films that have stolen fire from the gods and flew too close to the sun.  Southland Tales is among these flawed titans, presenting a universe filled with colorful insanity, unforgettable personas, and outlandish (but undeniably relevant) ideas.

Available now for digital rental, Southland Tales is a remarkable effort.  Its lack of focus and refusal to explain itself will undoubtedly be a turn off for many; however, this is a film that deserves a chance.  No matter whether its ideas resonate with you or not, it will have you pondering its mysteries and inconsistencies long after its levitating ice cream truck conclusion.

Highly.  Highly Recommend.

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