Cathexis's Replies


Why wouldn't you? South Korea is like any other modern global capitalist nation. Where there's capitalism there's inequality. Carpenter mainly the "I Can See Clearly" billboard, which alludes to the sunglasses in "They Live" that allow wearers to see the "hidden" ideology embedded in everyday life. Nicholas Ray most obviously in the visit to the Griffith Observatory, with the bust of James Dean playing a significant narrative role. But also in the layout of Sam's apartment complex, with an attractive female neighbor across the courtyard a la "In a Lonely Place." The De Palma connection is more nebulous, and I suppose can be traced back to the Hitchcock influence. But the abundant voyeurism and dangerous, often perverse sexuality are De Palma hallmarks too. I guess... although I'm not sure it does anything other LA shaggy dog tales like "The Big Lebowski" or "Inherent Vice" didn't do already and better. Or "Mulholland Drive." More like pretty much anyone who ever made a movie in LA. Hitchcock and Lynch are perhaps the most obvious reference points but De Palma, John Carpenter, and Nicholas Ray are other big ones. You could go on and on. Hollywood media/mythology haunts this movie as much as dead stars haunt the narrative itself. The events would certainly be different, because there would be nobody to inspire a revolution. My question is why underground Adelaide even thought to swap in the first place, as she knew nothing about the world above and could not have possibly understood it as preferable to where she came from. I don't see how she could have forgotten. She was afraid that the real Adelaide she swapped places with would come back for revenge, which is what happens. The placement of the flashback at the very end feels cheap to me, though, because it has no reason to be first shown to us then other than to surprise us. There is a power outage when Adelaide goes into the funhouse at the beginning of the film. The second one occurs in the beach house right before the Tethered show up outside. The thing that bothers me about it is how easily they do it, without hesitation or qualms. It's not realistic. I enjoyed the gusto and glee with which the daughter in "Us" went all-out on Elisabeth Moss's family, but it just doesn't make sense psychologically. Same goes for Chris in "Get Out." Nothing about their characters would suggest they would be capable of such behavior. They show the clones pantomiming the rides at the amusement park, so driving a car wouldn't be hard to do. You have the idea, I think. Not exercising her vocal chords for years upon years has left it guttural. It's the name of the neighborhood. It's got to be LA. You can see the California license plates in several scenes. How did he steal it? It's just imitation. The movie's terrific. Scathing, loopy, hilarious social satire in the vein of John Carpenter's "They Live" shot through with "Idiocracy." I haven't seen such a wildly imaginative film in a while. I'm curious where you get the idea that people aren't liking it as much as critics - the film is currently only out in 16 theaters. Where are you getting your data? From Moviechat? RottenTomatoes? Neither of these are particularly good measures of reception. Void reminded me of Kristen Stewart, with the facial tics and constant touching of hair. I also noticed the Obama lookalike. Yes, I would like to watch it again, but in my recollection his robe actually changes into a shirt during the camera revolution. As to how she got in - maybe she's an angel? Maybe it's me interpreting an allegorical scene too literally, but I assumed the barbed wire alone would kill him, especially if he left it on him. And yes, the way the scene/film ends is telling. Not only does it smash-cut to black, it does so in the middle of one of the song's lyrics, which is unexpected and unsettling. I also thought Esther's rendition was creepily dissonant: it is clearly not the actress singing "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms," and the way she performs it with that robotic, impassive look on her face adds counterpoint to the dulcet vocals. All of this is to say that the ending contains a distinct disharmony that makes it read as neither fully despondent nor hopeful. That's my impression, but it's deliberately ambiguous. In any case, I think what's important here is the dialectic of despair and hope Toller talks about toward the beginning of the film, how both are necessary components of life. This is Toller at the deepest depths of his despair, but the vision of Mary - whether "real" or not - represents a hope in human connection, in love, that can override or at least neutralize it. He seems to have reached some kind of salvation by this point, even if he's killed himself (as I'm inclined to think). Because he *didn't* kill anyone else as he had planned. His self-mutilation/destruction acts as self-abnegation and expiation, as well as the preservation (creation) of life (represented by Mary's unborn child). It's a similar ending in many ways to Dreyer's "Ordet," which is one of many touchstones for Schrader, but less explicitly miraculous. Indeed. Even regular film can have powerfully kinesthetic effects that make you feel as if you're moving through space. 3D, VR, and other technologies only exacerbate this. 70mm if you can.