David Lynch’s short film released on Netflix, What Did Jack Do?, works as both a gift to Lynch fans and a troll on Netflix viewers. In the film, Lynch portrays a detective who diligently interrogates a monkey suspected of homicide. Shot in black and white, Lynch stages a minimal scenery: a table top illuminated by … Continue reading
David Lynch has never sold out. I know using the term “sell out” makes me sound like an angry Goth kid furiously smoking behind the school dumpsters yelling “POSEURS” at anyone who walks by in the wrong band T-shirt. Hey, if the shoe fits. But when we live in a time when outsiders desperately want … Continue reading
There’s something spectacular about failure. Of course, it’s no surprise that I think that. As most of you faithful Filthy Dreams readers know, I have a soft spot for failure, from Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds’ atrocious album Nocturama, David Bowie’s unbearable pirate song “Red Sails” to Tennessee Williams’ putrid paintings. Even our blessed … Continue reading
“I used to think my life was a tragedy. Now I realize it’s a comedy,” says soon-to-be Joker/Gotham’s resident gaunt downer Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) in Todd Phillips’s much-discussed, much-think pieced, much-hyped, much-backlashed film Joker. This line became a standout early on in the promotion of the film, and truth be told, for a good … Continue reading
By and large, I’ve grown to despise comic book and superhero films. When I see praise lavished upon these narrative-less, stakes-less, CGI shlock-fests I stew with hatred for the artistically bankrupt culture that produces and pays for them to be continuously made. So when I went into a theater to watch Todd Phillips—a director best … Continue reading
*sniff sniff* Why, hello there, dearest tear-stained Filthy Dreams readers! What’s that? Oh, I’m just sobbing as I can feel that chill in the summer air, and you know what that means…no, not our World Famous Pumpkin Punch, though that would make any stable person weep (Secret: it’s the sheer amount of cinnamon, nutmeg, … Continue reading
*Ho HA!* What’s that, dearest Filthy Dreams cult member…*ahem* I mean, reader? Oh, I’m just practicing my new method breathing for when I move to Sweden to join the Hårga, that darkly sunny commune, from director and writer Ari Aster’s deeply unsettling yet intoxicatingly beautiful cult horror classic Midsommar. I’m ready to drink mushroom tea … Continue reading
