“Atta boy, Luther!”
I come in peace. And you go in pieces, assh*le.
Her driver’s license. Her credit cards. Her bank accounts. Her identity. DELETED.
Cold, impersonal, distant Frankenstein re-imagining―and a fairly perverse jab at its horror/suspense genre conventions.
“What you hunting this time?” “Going to shoot some pigs.”
Grimy, relentlessly downbeat actioner/drama, incisive and intriguingly hazy—and far better than its rep indicates—with Raquel Welch’s first really accomplished performance.
One long, downbeat descent into the void.
What better way to celebrate the most macabre month of the year than to watch a grotesque comedy about Hollywood and the funeral business (guess which one is worse…)?
Strange, hypnotic doom and gloom Southern cult classic, a modern-day Hatfield and McCoy feud underpinned by a violent, fatalistic melancholy.
Your typical Elvis musical stripped of all the on-camera performances, the bikinis, the laughs (except when Guy and Nan start sniping at each other)…and then heavily medicated for severe depression.