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Saturday, 8 May 2010

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My five favorite films are as follows (in no particular order): Natural Born Killers, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Hellbound: Hellraiser 2, Videodrome and Tetsuo: the Iron Man. The works of Fulci, Argento, Stuart Gordon and the Coen brothers are in their own respective stratospheres, thereby breaking apart into extraordinarily malleable subdivisions of relative perfection. My top 5 though, have attained their esteemed placement through years worth of rigorous examination not to mention studious, attentive and innumerable viewings. They appeal to me on an aesthetic, visceral and intellectual level. I can vividly recall the first time I saw them and how profoundly I was affected. I would like to write a bit about each of these films (again, in no particular order) starting with Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers.



Natural Born Killers came out at the tail end of the summer before my senior year of High School. I was 17 and already a lifelong film fan not to mention horror aficionado, having been reading Fangoria and Gorezone since I was 10 and with multiple viewings of films such as Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, City of the Living Dead and Bad Taste under my belt. I went to NBK opening night and was blown the fuck away. It was a rock concert, art house pastiche, violent road and prison picture, black satire, experimental mind fuck and creative supernova all rolled into one. It was the cinematic Burning Man for the Grunge/NIN generation and arguably the last interesting film to come out of the 90's. Our heroes were dead and our culture was a bloated, disingenuous whore. We watched wars and murder trials on TV as if they were situation comedies designed for our amusement and destined to be discarded and summarily replaced by another equally inconsequential batch. The film was a warning that we as a country were on a seriously disgusting path and the subsequently salacious and despicable sixteen years since its release would seem to indicate the admonishment went unheeded.



I saw NBK 7 nights in a row, from Friday, opening night to the following Friday, a Herculean feat no film since has compelled me to repeat. The more I saw it, the more the film opened up to me. Every nuance of acting, editing and shot selection became a gorgeous universe unto itself. For example: take the scene when Tom Sizemore's (remember when that name meant something?) Jack Scagnetti is relating the story of losing his mother during the Charles Whitman rampage to Tommy Lee Jones' Warden Dwight McCloskey. It begins as a highly comical interaction betwixt two caricatures of the most vile aspects of control. Then, as the story's emotional intensity begins to escalate, Oliver Stone opts to drop out the dialog track and bring up the hauntingly serene Trent Reznor synth music and as that swells, cuts outside the washed out prison walls to refreshingly vibrant shots of lovely green grass and flowers swaying in the Spring breeze. I'm incapable of accurately and adequately describing how heart wrenching and brilliant I find that several minutes of film to be. No other film I can think of has a moment with elements alternatingly touching, laughable and grotesque in such an unlikely combination and with such a disconcerting, yet comforting effect. That's roughly 2 minutes in a film filled with 118 others I find just as memorable, achingly beautiful and hilariously compelling.
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It's Robert Downey Jr's finest work hands down. Sure, dude might have been coked to the gills, but the potency of Wayne Gale as a metaphor for everything slimy, insidious, yet imminently likable about the media cannot be understated. Not a day goes by that at one point or another I don't either think or outright give voice to one of his immortal lines such as "Repitition works David, Repitition works David", "Don't put anything down on paper...ever." or my personal favorite, "This is the Nixon/Frost interviews, this is Wallace and Noriega, this is Elton John confessing his BI-SEXUALITY TO ROLLING STONE!" Tarantino wrote a great script (of which how much remains in the finished film I have no idea), but without performances the caliber Downey, Harrelson, Lewis, Jones, Sizemore, and Dangerfield turned in, you'd have been left with simply inert verbal wordplay. Much like the blog you're currently reading....Ha!

The point is, this film is on the top 5 list for perhaps the most reasons of any. It connects me to a time when I was getting into my first romantic relationships and Mickey and Mallory's psychotic purity as a coupling was inspiring, terrifying and oddly adorable. It reminds me of an age when I had no other responsibilities than enjoying movies with my friends and endlessly discussing them at all night gas station hang sessions that Kevin Smith seemed to have pilfered for script inspiration. There are certain friends of mine that to this day, even if we haven't spoken in months, can perform word for word recitations of our favorite bits with me at the drop of a hat. I don't think I have seen a film as visually schizophrenic or relentlessly inventive since. It employs more film techniques in its first 5 minutes than 97% of today's films (including Oliver Stones current, lamentable output) do in their entire runtime. It's a snapshot of a time in this country before our last vestiges of originality, ingenuity and individuality would forever be washed away by the internet, 9/11 and reality television. It's a film that makes me feel young. It makes me feel sad. It makes me laugh. It makes me think. It does all that and a hell of a lot more.

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