Crazy Love is the story of one man’s life told in three nights over the course of twenty years. The movie follows one Harry Voss, focusing on his difficult search for love. In 1955 we meet 13-year old Harry, a starry-eyed boy whose idea of romantic love is fashioned by melodramatic movies from Hollywood. Introduced to the mysteries of sex by an older friend, he begins to realize the messiness and pain of love. His vision of his parent’s marriage falls to the sight of them grunting under the sheets. Next we join Harry at age 19, as he’s about to graduate from school. The poor boy is afflicted with one of he worst cases of acne it is possible to imagine, covering him from head to toe in horrible bumps. It is made clear that he has no social life and few friends. Although introverted and shy, he’s convinced by a buddy to attend the graduation dance and goaded into asking the object of his affections to dance. He’s unable to work up the courage until he wraps his face and head in toilet paper — but even when the young girl sweetly accepts his invitation Harry still feels rejected. The night ends with him drunk and arrested. Then we jump to the man at age 33, when Harry has become an alcoholic loner. He runs into an old friend at a bar and the pair goes on a wild night of drinking, culminating in the theft of a dead body from an ambulance. When the corpse turns out to be a beautiful young woman Harry suddenly seems to sober up, becoming serious. When Harry claims to be in love with the dead girl his friend is unsure of what to do, but reluctantly goes along with a makeshift marriage ceremony on the beach.
A young man is confined in a mental hospital. Through a flashback we see that he was traumatized as a child, when he and his family were circus performers: he saw his father cut off the arms of his mother, a religious fanatic and leader of the heretical church of Santa Sangre (“Holy Blood”), and then commit suicide. Back in the present, he escapes and rejoins his surviving and armless mother. Against his will, he “becomes her arms” and the two undertake a grisly campaign of murder and revenge. Continue reading
Singapore Sling, seen here in its world premiere, could very well become this year’s runaway cult hit. A wonderfully outrageous expose of the innermost recess of human sexuality treated with a brashness and candour worthy of de Sade, this film does not hesitate to peel away layer after layer of human sensuality and physical stimulation that almost undefinable point where the distance between pain and pleasure begins to disappear. Singapore Sling is friendless, homeless and always broke; he is always chasing after lost causes, in particular a woman named Laura, a romantic memory from his past. She may in fact have died years ago, and he could very well be obsessed with a corpse. One lonely night in his meandering search, he finds himself in a mysterious villa, watching two women bury a body. He falls into their trap as naturally as a fly is caught in a spider’s web, their unwitting last victim in a sinister play of cruel fun. In a pervasive atmosphere of decadence and isolation, the two women act out insane pleasure games, unappetizing rituals of blood and murder. Theirs is a world turned in on itself where private sexual fantasies are transformed into explosive lust. This cocktail’s unusual recipe is no common mix of violence and sexual pleasure. Incest, lesbianism, sadism, bondage and much more are depicted with assured kinky precision and a perfectly immodest sense of the outrageous. However, Nikolaidis does not pass up a single opportunity to extract the wildly camp humour, albeit of a decidedly dark hue, of this scenario. Neither gory nor offensive in intent, the director’s determined treatment of his material makes for a gloriously entertaining black comedy. Filmed in sumptuous black and white to underscore the mock eeriness of the imagery, Singapore Sling is a cinematic rarity, a skillful, engrossing and elegant balancing act between shock, sensuality and black parody. – Dimitris Eipides, presenting Singapore Sling in the Toronto Film Festival (1991) Continue reading
Hubert Selby’s controversial 1964 cult novel Last Exit To Brooklyn is adapted to the big screen by director Ulrich Edel in this drama. The story is set in the early 1950s in Red Hook, Brooklyn, a blighted waterfront town of boarded-up storefronts and striking factory workers. Harry Black (Stephen Lang), a machinist put in charge of the local union strike office, suddenly finds himself one of the most important men in town. But for all his sudden power, there’s something disturbing Harry. He rejects his wife’s caresses and discovers himself infatuated with a frail young man who calls himself Georgette (Alexis Arquette), who has a crush on well-muscled hood Vinnie (Peter Dobson). But Harry doesn’t confront his problem head-on until he falls head-over-heels in love with Regina (Zette), a local transvestite. As the strike becomes more intense, Harry sinks deeper into an obsessive affair with Regina, using the strike fund to shower him/her with personal gifts. As Harry sinks into obsession, other characters float through the decaying streets. There’s the attractive prostitute Tralala (Jennifer Jason Leigh) who falls in love with a sailor about to be shipped overseas. There is also an agreeable young man named Tommy (John Costelloe) who is beaten by his soon-to-be father-in-law Big Joe (Burt Young) for making his daughter Donna (Ricki Lake) pregnant. Everything comes to a tragic conclusion as the workers’ strike escalates into a violent confrontation. Continue reading
“A film about the love generation – the birthday party of the Aquarian Age showing actual ceremonies to make Lucifer rise. Lucifer is the Light god, not the devil – the Rebel Angel behind what’s happening in the world today. His message is that the key of joy is disobedience. Isis (Nature) wakes. Osiris (Death) answers. Lilith (Destroyer) climbs to the place of Sacrifice. The Magus activates the circle and Lucifer – Bringer of Light – breaks through.”
- Kenneth Anger Continue reading
Scorpio Rising , a landmark in the American underground film, confirmed Kenneth Anger’s reputation as a major talent and, at the time of its release, created a stir which reached from the pages of New York’s Film Culture to the courts of California, where it was judged obscene. It is testimony to the film’s aesthetic power that 20 years later it continues to shock and dismay as many viewers as it amuses and exhilarates through its artfully subversive reinterpretation of the American mythos.
A product of the period which produced Andy Warhol’s Brillo boxes and Roy Lichtenstein’s comic-strip canvases, Scorpio Rising is a pop-art collage of found artifacts which submerges itself in the chrome-and-leather, skull-and-swastika iconography of the motorcycle cult that provides its subject. (Anger shot many scenes using an actual Brooklyn biker’s club.) Yet, almost instantly, the film extends these symbols of machismo to include the entirety of American culture via the re-reading of its popular imagery. Structured around 13 “top forty” songs from the period in which it was made (1962–63), Scorpio Rising mounts a dialectical collision between images and music to reveal the strains of romanticized violence, morbidity and homoeroticism just beneath the surface of “Dondi” and “Li’l Abner,” of Brando’s and Dean’s rebels, of hit tunes by Rick Nelson, Elvis Presley and Martha and the Vandellas. The juxtaposition of the Angel’s “My Boyfriend’s Back” with shots of a biker working on his machine, for example, not only suggests the violent eroticism and fetishization inherent to the cycle cult, but reveals the open brutality of the song’s lyrics as well, implicating the whole civilization in its imagery of obsession. And when Anger plays Bobby Vinton’s “Blue Velvet” over a loving tilt up a biker’s jeans as he zips his fly, the effect is both erotic and a savage parody of eroticism as it is packaged by the culture industry.
Imdb User Reviews
13 June 2003 | by Mario Pio (Venezia, Italy)
When in the 1976 “Febbre da cavallo” exit in cinema not so much people went to see it. The status of “cult” movie starts from the various nocturnal passages in the private tv, during the ’80. That’s why people loves “Febbre” in this way (a little bit exaggerated). It’s a personal people discover. This is not the “pinnacle” of italian comedy. It’s only a little movie but funny and memorable in some of its parts. There is one thing over others: the actors are really good, better then some late italian comedies, in a time when comedy leaves for sexy italian comedy, the “commediaccia”. So, no Alberto Sordi, not Tognazzi but Gigi Proietti (an excellent, hystrionic theathre actor), and Enrico Montesano, in one of his few good performance on cinema. Enjoy this movie and…”vai cor tango!” Continue reading