...in the short time that I have been scribbling complementary and critical cinematic verbiage for this most embraceably eclectic webpage (...oh yes, a motley crew, are we...), I have gleefully perused through a rather respectable gamut of cult movies...a whole spectrum of relishably lurid schlock, escapist genre classics, arousingly sizzling erotica, easily-digestible commercial oddies, and all point in-between, around the sides, over the top, as well as the slimy, abysmally darkened dreck, underneath (...what was it that Maxwell Smart once offered in response, on more than one occasion?? "...AND loving it!!", I believe it was...). In the midst of having viewed & viewed & viewed, and thusly offered commentary to such viewings, this...well, this viewer has since instigated in the back of his mind, a gage...a measuring device, not so very much unlike that of a meter, measuring a level of intensity, from left to right...an intensity, which reflects how much my face contorts and assumes a live version of the cartoonish Cinema Head Cheese logo, which you readers have come to know and recognize. Least to say, given the wide range of film-fantasique, which this viewer has been privy of, the needle on said gage has seen flutter well across the range of the scale...with the odd, occasional times, when the needle slams resoundly to the right, and this viewer's facial visage takes on the euphorically sado-masochistic and tortured look of this webpage's namesake logo. And it is those rare times when one finds that oh-so numbingly rancid, tantilizingly tasteless and wincingly brain-twisting vintage of Thunderbird...that rare, opportune piece of flickage, which makes one stare hypnotically googly-eyed at the end of the movie...at the screen...through the screen...while the final credits roll, and then, moments later, after the screen has faded to black, makes one shakes one's head back & forth crazily back to reality, blubbering spittle all around, like a Whammo Water Wiggle, and half-laughing/half-screaming madly, in the process...
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Showing posts with label William Fichtner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William Fichtner. Show all posts
August 1, 2013
Movie Review: Wrong (2012, Realitism/Drafthouse Films)
...in the short time that I have been scribbling complementary and critical cinematic verbiage for this most embraceably eclectic webpage (...oh yes, a motley crew, are we...), I have gleefully perused through a rather respectable gamut of cult movies...a whole spectrum of relishably lurid schlock, escapist genre classics, arousingly sizzling erotica, easily-digestible commercial oddies, and all point in-between, around the sides, over the top, as well as the slimy, abysmally darkened dreck, underneath (...what was it that Maxwell Smart once offered in response, on more than one occasion?? "...AND loving it!!", I believe it was...). In the midst of having viewed & viewed & viewed, and thusly offered commentary to such viewings, this...well, this viewer has since instigated in the back of his mind, a gage...a measuring device, not so very much unlike that of a meter, measuring a level of intensity, from left to right...an intensity, which reflects how much my face contorts and assumes a live version of the cartoonish Cinema Head Cheese logo, which you readers have come to know and recognize. Least to say, given the wide range of film-fantasique, which this viewer has been privy of, the needle on said gage has seen flutter well across the range of the scale...with the odd, occasional times, when the needle slams resoundly to the right, and this viewer's facial visage takes on the euphorically sado-masochistic and tortured look of this webpage's namesake logo. And it is those rare times when one finds that oh-so numbingly rancid, tantilizingly tasteless and wincingly brain-twisting vintage of Thunderbird...that rare, opportune piece of flickage, which makes one stare hypnotically googly-eyed at the end of the movie...at the screen...through the screen...while the final credits roll, and then, moments later, after the screen has faded to black, makes one shakes one's head back & forth crazily back to reality, blubbering spittle all around, like a Whammo Water Wiggle, and half-laughing/half-screaming madly, in the process...
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