Ukraine is Not a Brothel [2013)

2013, eh?

What happened the next year?

Let’s get our organizations straight.

Because, as this documentary elucidates, the money just COMES IN.

Anonymous.

[a story for another time]

Is George Soros a “fan” (benefactor) of FEMEN?

You bet your damn ass he is.

But as a wise person has said: it is not what we know in our gut, but what we can prove that matters.

When it comes to tracing transnational, criminal conspiracies (aka “color revolutions”).

What happened in Ukraine in 2014?

Let’s meet our players (and their ilk).

FEMEN.

Ukrainian.

Фемен.

Lots of similarities between Russian and Ukrainian language.

But don’t trust me.

Try Duolingo.

Wanna read Russian news?

I do.

Because our news (the bullshit aggregated on Drudge Report) is globalist propaganda.

I want a new propaganda (to dérive Huey Lewis).

Wanna read something other than Russia Today (RT), ITAR-TASS (aka TASS), Pravda, or Sputnik (all four of these are good sources)?

Then you’re gonna have to learn Russian.

And this conflict ain’t going anywhere.

Unless we all get incinerated (which I would say there’s about a 30% chance of right now…as things stand).

So sound out your Cyrillic.

FEMEN.

I almost stopped watching this film as soon as I heard the word “patriarchy”.

Dog whistle for “Marxist moron philosophy to shortly follow”.

But I stuck it out.

For you guys.

And not because the tits were that great.

Because they weren’t.

Relocated to Paris (as this film delineates).

Founded in Ukraine.

Famous for their activities in Ukraine.

Anna Hutsol.

Looks like a fucking man.

But kinda cute.

Murmansk.

Oh, to be a professional “activist”.

Have you seen these cunts (men too!) on Twitter?

They have the word “activist” in their bios.

What kind of Jane Fonda imbecile would self-identify with that word?

And think about this.

Those cigarettes they are smoking (these “activists”)…some poor schmuck in the Philippines is paying for that with his donation.

Or, more likely, George Soros routed some money through multiple shell organizations to pay for those cigarettes.

Why?

To destabilize Ukraine.

Why?

To, in turn, destabilize Russia.

It’s the kind of bullshit our CIA does.

Which begs the question:  does George Soros work for the CIA?

Indeed, does George Soros OWN the CIA?

What about Klaus Schwab?

Does the CIA work for Klaus Schwab?

Officially?

Unofficially?

In essence?

Anna Hutsol.

Jewish (big surprise).

An “economist”.

Yeah, right.

And I’m an architect.

I have to hand it to FEMEN in one sense.

They are masters of public relations and publicity.

Much like Fauci, er, Zelensky.

FEMEN does not seem to be too knowledgeable about prostitution (the traditional kind…not philosophical prostitution [they are masters of that!]) in Ukraine.

So let’s help them out.

You gotta go back a little bit.

To the first “white slavery” in Europe.

To Belgium.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_slave_trade_affair

Frame of reference.

Why did Putin invade Ukraine?

Demilitarization (to protect Russia and ethnic Russians in Ukraine [the latter of which are being subjected to genocide in Donbass at the hands of the neo-Nazi Ukrainian goverment {courtesy of the Ihor Kolomoyskyi/Igor Kolomoisky/Kolomoysky-funded neo-Nazi Azov Battalion}]).

https://www.newsweek.com/evidence-war-crimes-committed-ukrainian-nationalist-volunteers-grows-269604

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https://www.reuters.com/article/idUS60927080220150505

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Denazification (to protect the Russian-speaking population of Ukraine who are being subjected to genocide [as outlined in objective #1]).

Destruction of U.S.-funded biolabs.

Human trafficking (stopping the cesspool Ukraine from providing girls [many underage] to the illegal sex trafficking industry both in Europe and around the world).

DDDH.

Demilitarization Denazification Destruction (of biolabs) Human trafficking (interdiction).

This final point (the interdiction of human trafficking occurring in and emanating from Ukraine) has not, as far as I’m aware, been thus far ideated by the Kremlin.

But it goes without saying.

The same forces (Kolomoysky) that fund the neo-Nazi Azov Battalion are likely to have their fingers in the human trafficking (sex trafficking) pie.

Kolomoysky is Jewish.

Yet he materially supports (funds) the neo-Nazi Azov Battalion.

Does that strike you as strange?

Does it make you rethink your assumptions about Jewish “choir boy” (cantor) Zelensky???

I am not accusing Kolomoysky of doing anything other than being guilty of being (a Jewish) funder of neo-Nazis in Ukraine.

But I will say this:  it appears that a good many Ukrainian girls end up as sex slaves in Israel.

You decide.

HistorySlavery

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https://t.me/deathwishpauly

Sacha Baron Cohen can joke in his TV series Who is America? about Eastern European girls being smuggled en masse into Assad’s Syria aboard yachts.

Is it because this activity is common knowledge?

Why did Sacha Baron Cohen take the role of Mossad spy Eli Cohen in The Spy?

Strange role, no?

Is SBC a dual-citizen?

Why has he become so humorless as of late?

He’s become [drumroll] an ACTIVIST.

How disgusting.

And how strikingly-similar to Jim Carrey.

It’s almost like these guys are nervous about something.

What.

Were they hanging with Epstein on Little Saint James?

Or at Zorro Ranch??

Or on Lolita Express???

Let’s get back to what FEMEN never once (!) talks about in this titty-flashing movie.

Their ostensible raison d’être.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_trafficking_in_Ukraine

There is an effort to hide this.

As if Ukraine is more advanced–more civilized when it comes to stopping sex trafficking (when exactly the opposite is the case [as Putin knows, it is the epicenter–the cesspool on his doorstep]).

IMG_7973

IMG_7974

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The Thailand of Europe.

Sure.

Czechia has problems too.

But Ukraine appears to be ground zero in Europe (as regards the number of young women and girls [and boys!]) that they supply to the international illegal sex trade.

Buying and selling persons.

Remember James Alefantis and his Instagram?

What were those strange pictures of porcelain dolls with price tags?

Why post that?

And those pictures of stacks of rubber-banded Euros?

Why post that?

Some kind of joke??

I kinda don’t think so.

It may be a joke (funny to the author [Alefantis]), but it is not truly in jest.

…but I digress.

https://dcpizzagate.wordpress.com/

Stay.  On.  Target.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sex_tourism_in_Ukraine

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Anna Hutsol was detained by the FSB (Russian security service) in November 2012.

The year before this film was released.

And a mere two years before the U.S. government and a George Soros NGO engineered the coup in Ukraine.

The “revolution of dignity”.

They had already had the “orange” revolution.

Running out of colors.

And “revolution of dignity” sounds slightly less-absurd than “chartreuse” revolution.

Anna Hutsol was deported from Russia upon attempting to enter the country via Saint Petersburg in November 2012.

Deported back to Paris.

Her point of departure.

Soon afterwards, the homegrown FEMEN would leave Ukraine for France.

Anna Hutsol was denied asylum in Switzerland.

Because she is a political operative.

And not a genuine refugee.

That is plain to see.

By 2013, FEMEN was featured in multiple films (including the French television production Nos seins, nos armes!, the documentary Everyday Rebellion, and the film currently under consideration).

Indeed, three films came out on FEMEN the same year:  2013.

The year before the U.S. (Victoria Nuland and Geoffrey Pyatt acting as point people [not to mention John McCain]) overthrew the government of Ukraine.

In 2014, a fourth FEMEN documentary appeared (Je suis FEMEN):  fourth in two years.

Was this group really that inspiring?

Did any of these filmmakers (our director Kitty Green, Caroline Fourest, Nadia El Fani, Arash T. Riahi, Arman Riahi, and/or Alain Margot) receive funding from any NGOs?

If so, which NGOs?

They wouldn’t happen to be Soros (and/or Schwab) -connected, would they?

Oksana Shachko died in 2018.

In Paris.

She was only 31.

Unlike Hutsol, she was actually born in Ukraine.

Hutsol moved to Ukraine from Russia at age seven.

Shachko hung herself.

Ostensibly.

She was from Western Ukraine.

This is important.

This is where arch-Ukrainian-Nazi Stepan Bandera was from.

Shachko went from wanting to be a nun (age 12?) to becoming an atheist (age 14).

What caused such a precipitous change in this young Ukrainian woman between the years 1999-2001?

It was likely her enrollment in the free university of Khmelnytsky at age 13.

That’s where she appears to have been met with radical feminist indoctrination.

Keep in mind, FEMEN has not only spawned documentaries.

There are also tomes by the likes of Galia Ackerman, etc.

It is purported that the “security forces” of Vladimir Putin attacked Shachko multiple times.

When?

Where?

How?

How was this proven?

Where is the proof that Putin sent anyone after her?

What was Shachko’s relationship with the French group Front National?

[now known as National Rally]

Shachko had a solo art exhibition in Paris in 2016.

In 2019, it was reported in Elle that this was not Shachko’s first attempt to hang herself.

Alexandra Shevchenko was also born in Ukraine.

Also in Western Ukraine (the land of Ukrainian Nazi Stepan Bandera).

It should be noted that Hutsol, Shachko, and Shevchenko all grew up in the same town:  Khmelnytskyi.

Population:  approximately 275,000.

There was a FEMEN protest in Moscow against Vladimir Putin in December 2011.

FEMEN have protested in Belarus.

Also in 2011.

Inna Shevchenko (not to be confused with Alexandra) cut down a Christian cross in Kiev with a chainsaw in 2012.

Now where have we seen that activity before?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=uHMHPQY3BmE

Incidentally, Shachko appears in this film in a hat with a cutesy-pink hammer and sickle on it.

Kitsch?

Or do these morons want to go back to communism???

Inna was born in Ukraine.

In Kherson (in the south).

A Black Sea port.

In 2013, Inna was granted asylum in France.

When was the Orange Revolution (about which I spoke earlier)?

2004.

In the aftermath of an election followed by claims of corruption and electoral fraud.

Sound familiar?

What happened?

The Supreme Court (of Ukraine) ordered a revote.

Americans were not so lucky.

Our SCOTUS is itself obviously corrupt.

Hence their inaction on the 2020 election (which Trump clearly won).

So we are now stuck with bumbling dictator Biden.

Mandate Biden.

What other colors of revolution have there been?

Let’s line them up:

Philippines “Yellow Revolution”:  1986

Papua New Guinea “Coconut Revolution”:  1988-1998

Czechoslovakia “Velvet Revolution”:  1989

Yugoslavia “Bulldozer Revolution”:  2000

Georgia (Tbilisi) “Rose Revolution”:  2003

Georgia (Tbilisi) “Second Rose Revolution”:  2004

Ukraine “Orange Revolution”:  2004-2005

Iraq “Purple Revolution”:  2005

Kyrgyzstan “Tulip Revolution”:  2005

Lebanon “Cedar Revolution”:  2005

Kuwait “Blue Revolution”:  2005

Belarus “Jeans Revolution”:  2006

Myanmar “Saffron Revolution”:  2007

Malaysia “Yellow Rally”:  2007-2016

Moldova “Grape Revolution”:  2009

Iran “Green Revolution”:  2009-2010

Kyrgyzstan “Melon Revolution”:  2010

Tunisia “Jasmine Revolution”:  2010-2011

Egypt “Lotus Revolution”:  2011

Bahrain “Pearl Revolution”:  2011-2014

Yemen “Yemeni Revolution”:  2011

China “Chinese Jasmine Revolution”:  2011

Russia “Snow Revolution”:  2011-2013

[notice that China and Russia (who are now aligned due to moronic U.S. foreign policy) were hit back to back:  coincidence?  I don’t fucking think so.]

Macedonia “Colourful Revolution”:  2016

Armenia “Velvet Revolution”:  2018

Lebanon “October Revolution”:  2019-present

Bolivia “Pitita Revolution”:  2019

Belarus “Slipper Revolution”:  2020-present

Do you notice how the USA isn’t on there?

It should be.

I would call it Coronariots.

Inna and Alexandrea Shevchenko are not related.

How did these two meet?

On VK, of course! [VKontakte (Russian social media platform)]

Enter DJ Hell.

Inna was arrested in Enschede, Netherlands for cutting down “wooden” (read Christian) crosses.

She was protesting the arrest of Pussy Riot (remember this name).

Inna got asylum in France in 2013.

Le Figaro‘s Saturday supplement Madame Figaro named Inna as one of the world’s most iconic women in December 2012.

Inna thinks that “homophobes” and “fascists” are “extremists”.

She lumps them all together.

But are FEMEN “extremists”?

The implication is, “Of course not.”

Indeed.  

To watch these women flail like LeBron James when they are arrested only attests to the hysteria that drives their actions.

They are performers.

And not very entertaining ones.

They are shrill.

Annoying.

And most certainly guilty of (were it to be directed at any other religion but Christianity) hate crimes.

Desecration.

Sacrilege.

In 2015, Inna was speaking in Copenhagen.

She was discussing the “illusion” of “freedom of speech” in Western Europe.

As she was speaking, a terrorist opened fire in the lobby.

Wikipedia leaves out the identity and motivation of this terrorist.

Was he (oh, I don’t know) MUSLIM???

And if so, was he acting AGAINST these fucking stupid stunts of FEMEN?

I would say that the probability is not negligible.

Inna once stripped nude on Al Jazeera before the feed was cut.

But the context was particularly appalling.

The interviewer had just asked, “Which is better for women, nudity or the paranja?”

Paranja = Central Asian version of burqa

This is very offensive.

This is offensive to Arabic speakers.

This is offensive to Muslims.

Why should a non-Arab, non-Muslim such as Inna be granted “asylum” in France for pulling these kinds of stunts worldwide?

Why doesn’t she and her band of merry strippers stay in Ukraine and fight for the rights of women and girls?

Why not?

Because they don’t fucking care.

Because FEMEN are fake.

They are a tool.

A can opener.

If it isn’t Soros slipping money into their bank account, it is someone of that ilk.

All of these “color revolutions” need a spark.

Strangely, the list above (from Wikipedia) also doesn’t include the “Revolution of Dignity” which occurred in Ukraine in 2014.

These are the infamous Euromaidan protests.

Much more violent than the Orange Revolution (where only one person died [of a heart attack]).

2004.

2014.

The revolution was restarted.

Tried again.

Inna Shevchenko studied journalism.

Can you guess who has published her?

CNN, Huffington Post…

Inna is apparently against all religion (like the late-Shachko):  Christianity, Islam, Judaism, etc.

Those are the only ones she singles out.

What about Buddhism?

Hiduism?

No mention of those.

Only the Abrahamic religions seem to be in her sights.

Inna seems to be fighting religion more than she is fighting sex trafficking.

I thought, “Ukraine is not a brothel”?

Maybe ease up on bashing religions and do some fucking research about sex trafficking.

And if you have done the research, Inna, then fucking talk about it!!!

Instead of just shooting your mouth off about how RELIGION is so oppressive to women.

What about the Ukrainian women and girls who are sold as sex slaves?

Do you think they wake up every day thinking how oppressive RELIGION is???

Of course not.

FEMEN are fucking fakes!

Yana Zhdanova.

Donetsk Oblast.

One founder from Eastern Ukraine.

One from Southern Ukraine.

And three from Western Ukraine.

Yana and other members of FEMEN were expelled from Turkey in 2012.

Maybe if FEMEN had remained in Ukraine (and had stayed focused on helping rape victims, for instance) they would actually be making a positive difference in the world?

As it is, they are just being used by their backers (funders).

FEMEN made their pro-abortion stance clear in April 2012 with their protest in the bell tower of Saint-Sophia cathedral in Kyiv.

Another moronic stance.

A death cult.

And the strumpet cheerleaders of this death cult.

Do you think dead little babies are cool?

Apparently FEMEN do.

They want to HELP women by making sure women can KILL their unborn children.

That is not revolutionary.

It’s stupid.

It’s not noble.

It’s disgusting.

As you might expect, FEMEN seem to particularly despise Lukashenko (President of Belarus).

This is somewhat understandable.

Was Lukashenko installed by way of a rigged election?

Many say he was.

I do have sympathy for electorates whose voices have been squelched by election fraud.

But once again, FEMEN make no sense.

WHY don’t they like Lukashenko?

The reason is not apparent in their ill-thought-out slogan, “Respect, KGB, UEFA.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

In other news, there is a mosque in Kyiv.

Back to Lukashenko, at least FEMEN got their point across with the slogan, “Stop Dictator”.

They have a point.

Lukashenko has been President of Belarus since 1994.

That is a bit long.

28 years.

But Belarus has had to deport FEMEN on a notorious occassion.

It was rather brutal.

But the message from the Belarussian KGB was clear:

“don’t come to our fucking country.”

Did FEMEN come back?

No.

FEMEN really hate Christianity.

Their protests in Ukraine make this clear.

Why protest the 1025th anniversary of Orthodox Christianity in Kyivan Rus’?

Why not protest sex trafficking??

I thought, “Ukraine is not a brothel”???

Protesting Christianity is the kind of bullshit Klaus Schwab would support.

Or ethnic Jew George Soros (who doesn’t believe in God [according to his 60 Minutes interview with Steve Kroft]).

My guess is that Soros and Schwab want to dispense with religions.

Because religions involve morality.

Ethics.

And these communist eco-Nazis (Schwab and Soros) will not be able to effect their Great Reset without seriously weakening organized religions.

But guess what?

They already did.

What was closed down for much of the past two years in the USA?

Churches.

What was open?

Casinos, etc.

In December 1, 2013, Yana protested in front of the Ukrainian embassy in Paris (a country which gave her asylum in 2014…apparently urinators need protection from those upon whose images they urinate) by urinating on photos of Victor Yanukovych.

Yanukovych would be overthrown in a U.S.-led coup the following year (as evidenced by the leaked phone call between Victoria Nuland and Geoffrey Pyatt).

Three weeks after peeing on Yanukovych in Paris, Yana went to Brussels where her slogan was, “Putin is the killer of democracy.”

What was “the great uniter” Joe Biden’s first act as President?

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/03/18/world/europe/russia-biden-putin-killer.html

Joe Biden absolutely went to the Rex Tillerson school of diplomacy.

Had Trump not fired Tillerson, the U.S. and North Korea would have fought a nuclear war during Trump’s Presidency.

In 2012, Yana attacked the patriarch Kirilll of Moscow and all of Russia at the airport in Kyiv.

What an offense!

Let’s be clear.

These dumbass “smash the patriarchy” bitches are not being metaphorical.

They actually want to deprive Russian Orthodox Christians of their dignity.

Imagine if the current Pope wasn’t a communist cocksucker.

What if Yana had attacked him?

Even so.

It’s one thing to call someone a “communist cocksucker”.

It’s another to physically assault him.

I have no love or respect for Pope Bergoglio.

Because he is a fucking sellout.

He is a goddamned communist prick.

But I would never attack him physically.

I do, however, reserve my right to insult him in writing.

I love Catholics.

I am a Christian.

Make of that what you want.

I reserve the right to rail against false idols such as Pope Bergoglio in a manner commensurate to the prophets of old.

I’m not a prophet.

I’m not overturning a table in the synagogue.

But I will tell you this:  Jesus was a bad motherfucker.

https://open.spotify.com/track/2qWeZD9gk2V3dmadKOUmeE?si=b707102754b04c0a

Wars happen.

Wars are fought.

There is a time to stand up.

Putin is, in my opinion (considering all the intel I have consumed), doing the right thing in Ukraine.

Putin is fighting against the insidious influence of globalist tools like FEMEN.

By the way, what was Yana’s slogan when she attacked the patriarch?

“Kill Kirill.”

What an insult.

Indeed, more than an insult.

A threat of violence.

An incitement to violence.

To anyone who heard those words.

An instruction.

I would never say such a thing about Pope Bergoglio.

I hope the Pope confesses his sins and turns from his communist cocksucking ways.

I understand shock value.

In this small sense, I respect FEMEN.

But in the grand scheme, I think what they are doing is evil.

Perhaps they are just stupid.

And greedy.

And vacuous.

Yana protested in Lithuania in 2013.

This was a key event in starting the Euromaidan protest.

These dumb bitches want to be a part of the European Union.

That’s why they flee their homeland and post up in Paris.

Meanwhile, they say very little about how Ukrainian girls and women are bought and sold across Western Europe and the world.

So these fucking bitches are fake-ass sellouts.

They just want the fame of protesting some dumb bullshit.

They suck Soros cock all day long.

Metaphorically, of course.

Because Soros has no cock to suck.

His demon cock fell off long ago.

Same with Satanist Schwab.

Speaking of Nazis…

https://unlimitedhangout.com/2021/02/investigative-reports/schwab-family-values/

And:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=OT1Qn6COp6Y

What is it with these Nazi Jews?!?

Do they think the Holocaust didn’t happen???

I think the Holocaust DID happen!

There!

Take that, you pricks!!

I think Nazis are the scum of the earth.

Fuck Nazis!!!

So what am I:

anti-semitic?

No, I don’t think so.

A white supremacist?

Nope, try again.

I’m just a dude who thinks the idea of super-rich Jews having benefitted from families who collaborated with the Nazis (Soros and Schwab) is disgusting.

And I think the idea of the 2nd or 3rd richest person in Ukraine (Igor Kolomoysky [also a Jew]) funding the neo-Nazi Azov Battalion that is committing genocide (the past eight years) against the Russian-speaking population of Donbass is disgusting.

Have these three Jews no shame?

Particularly Kolomoysky.

Soros has no control (nor any remorse) about how he went around with his fake godfather and confiscated the property of Jews during WWII.

Schwab seems to have no remorse about his father having profited immensely by being a Nazi collaborator in Germany during WWII (assuming the above link is accurate).

I am just scratching the surface with FEMEN.

The same can be done with Pussy Riot.

Or Marina Abramovic (who is “standing with Ukraine” [blech!]).

FEMEN and Pussy Riot are largely-interchangeable globalist tools.

Abramovic is their godhead.

These are not good people.

These are spirit-cooking, sick fucks.

This is not what Putin wants in his neighborhood.

And I don’t blame him.

LGBTQ, BLM, and Antifa are all globalist tools.

And their members (cult members) are useful idiots.

Dupes.

In 2014, Yana destroyed a wax figure of Putin in Paris (a country that gave her asylum [from what?!?] that same year).

Her message when she destroyed this wax figure of Putin?

“Kill Putin.”

Tell me, Yana, how does this message help the young women and girls of Ukraine who are being funneled into international sex trafficking rings?

How does “killing Putin” or “killing patriarch Kirill of Moscow” help young Ukrainian women and girls who have been SOLD and have ended up as sex slaves in places like Israel?

Does Putin run Israel?

I don’t think so.

Does Putin run the international sex trafficking market?

I don’t think so.

And if he does (and that is your message [which I doubt it is]), then prove it.

Get your feeble brain to log on to Mother Jones.

I don’t even care if the link is bullshit.

Just let me know why on earth you think killing Kirill and Putin will help young women and girls in Ukraine.

Are Kirill and Putin buying Ukrainian women and girls?

I kinda doubt it.

But I bet there are plenty of Parisians (your country of “asylum”) who are.

Plenty of rich French customers.

Is Paris a brothel?

Is France a brothel?

And where are the women and girls in those brothels from?

Not, perhaps, from your country which you abandoned (Ukraine)???

2014.

Yana vandalized the Vatican by taking the baby Jesus statue from the Nativity scene in front of Saint Peter’s Basilica while shouting, “God is woman.”

Yeah.

Great.

Real productive.

Hey Yana, you dumb bitch:

is the Holy Spirit male or female?

Think on that as that sweet Soros money rolls into the FEMEN bank account.

I agree with Yana and FEMEN on one point.

Bring on the titties!

I have no problem with women going topless.

That’s something I can get behind.

-PD

 

The Big Lebowski [1998)

It’s been a long time.

And a rough time.

Cousin died of a heart attack.

Freaked me the fuck out.

I was sick for two months.

Had to start taking heart medicine.

Double whammy.

Thought I could sleep it off.

Depression.

But, more so, overwhelming fear.

My cousin went at age 43.

Like a thief in the night.

And here I am sittin’ at age 40.

Jesus.

Yes.

Jesus has happened to me.

No, really.

A funny thing happened on the way to my mid-life crisis…

Mental breakdown?

Sure 🙂  Whatever…

Doesn’t matter what you call it.

Just matters that grieving can fuck you up.

Our minds are fragile.

And I am not used to death.

I am not a hardened individual.

I have seen a lot of things.

But I haven’t seen a lot of death.

So my cousin’s death fucked me up.

Bad.

But I’m back.

And I’m getting better than ever.

Which brings us to this film:  The Big Lebowski.

You know, I used to be such a snobby prick.

Probably still am in some people’s eyes.

But believe me:  life has brought me low.

And so I say prayers…all the time…for anyone I’ve ever hurt.

Anyone I’ve ever insulted.

Karma follow us.

Like baggage.

And thus the East-West divide of The Big Lebowski.

Cowboys as Confucians.

My cousin was a cowboy.

Big, Copenhagen-dipping hoss!

I miss that motherfucker.

Shit, I miss Copenhagen 🙂

The city and the tobacco…

Well, at least Denmark.

Never been to København.

My new readers (if I have any) might be wondering, “Does he have to curse so much?”

I’m working on it.

I don’t know how to be me.

I love God.

I believe in Jesus.

And I drop f-bombs everywhere…when I write.

Let me explain:  Pauly Deathwish is a persona.

It’s me, to a certain extent.

But it’s also the badass (failed) musician who toured the world in Young Heart Attack (yes, you read right) and Lost Bayou Ramblers.

I am that guy.

And I am getting back to music.

After 2 1/2 torturous years in business school.

Now I have a BM and an MBA.

[bachelor’s of music is the first one…in case you were wondering]

The Big Lebowski.

Is a masterpiece.

This is The Beatles’ of films.

Everyone loves it.

And should love it.

Film snobs will scoff at it (as I once did).

But I have seen the error of my ways.

Life is too fucking hard to forego a laugh.

I needed this film tonight.

I needed John Goodman.

I needed Jeff Bridges.

And I needed les frères Coen 🙂

Being a snob is a hard habit to break.

Critic is just another word for snob.

And cursing is really hard to quit…once you’re balls-deep.

“What the fuck are you talking about…man?”

Exactly.

The exception that PROVES the rule?

I don’t know.

Etymology has shifted.

Words have taken on their opposite meanings.

Much stranger than dialectics.

Defined by opposition.

No, that is much simpler.

Yin and yang.

But language is slippery.

And, so, do not fear…dear friends.

I am back.

I am scared as shit.

But here I am, writing my ass off.

Trying to bring you some glimmer of REAL in this world of fake.

That is the whole point.

We are searching for those treasures…

We want to keep our best moments.

Cinema.

We love vérité.

I owe to Jesus my salvation.

I am a sinner.

No better than any other man or woman.

I have a long road to walk (God willing)…to get back to the godliness I once knew.

But the point is simple:  all glory to God!

It is not my doing.

I am saved by the grace of the Lord.

This may sound like psychobabble.

That is fine 🙂

Don’t worry about a thing, my friends.

Love one another.  And seek God.

God is love.

I hope to bring you many more film reviews.

I praise God for this opportunity to share my writing with you.

Thank you for reading.

God bless you.

I love you all.

 

-PD

Chuck Norris vs Communism [2015)

Dear Ilinca Călugăreanu,

You have made a beautiful film.

Which the world needed to see.

And the title made me think it would be imperialist propaganda directed at North Korea.

But I could not have been more wrong.

Because Romania has touched my heart so many times.

And so I am glad to add another name to the list of auteurs.

Cristi Puiu, Corneliu Porumboiu, Cătălin Mitulescu, Cristian Mungiu…

And now Ilinca Călugăreanu.

Yes, it is only right that a young female director should bring us this story.

This documentary.

Ms. Călugăreanu, born in 1981.

Because this film is very much about the 1980s.

VHS.

Videocassettes.

And the situation in Romania.

Chuck Norris is merely a placeholder.

A meme which has undergone a certain détournement.

But there is no substitute for communism in this tale.

Perhaps, authoritarianism.

You see…

if you tell people to do one thing…and you’re really heavy-handed about it,

they will almost certainly do the opposite.

At some point.

And Ms. Călugăreanu’s very persuasive hypothesis is that videocassettes brought down the Ceaușescu regime.

And so there is very little way around this impasse without talking political economy.

First, let us address the very astute current Russian minister of culture Vladimir Medinsky.

The esteemed Mr. Medinsky has famously (?) called Netflix “U.S. government…mind control”.

Or at least that’s how The Washington Times (who needs the Post?) framed it.

But let’s investigate.

Let’s have Mr. Medinsky’s words and not just a CliffsNotes, elevator-pitch summation of them.

He says [translated],

“And, what, you thought these gigantic startups emerge by themselves? One schoolboy sat down, thought for a bit, and then billions of dollars rained down from above?”

That is pursuant to the funding which helped birth Netflix (and, presumably, other American companies with what Mr. Medinsky feels is a global, insidious reach).

He continues [translated],

“It turns out that that our ideological friends [the U.S. government] understand perfectly well that this is the art form that is the most important…”

Ahh, cinema…

And Vladimir Lenin himself knew it!

Mr. Medinsky then seems to evoke the Leonard Cohen of “Tower of Song” when he says [translated],

“They understand how to enter everyone’s homes by getting into every television with the help of Netflix…”

Leonard Cohen (God rest his soul) said it thus:

“Now you can say that I’ve grown bitter but of this you may be sure
The rich have got their channels in the bedrooms of the poor.”

Ah!

What a lyric!!

And that was in 1988!!!

So our director, Ilinca Călugăreanu, knows that of which she speaks.

Because the grip of Ceaușescu was beginning to slip.

But let’s give Mr. Medinsky one more say [translated],

“And through this television, [they get into] the heads of everyone on Earth. But [Russians] don’t grasp this.”

Ok.

Now why was Mr. Medinsky so upset?

Well, because Netflix undertook a vast expansion this past summer.

Indeed, the article from which I’m pirating these quotes (yes, translations are intellectual property) dates from June 23, 2016.

The same article notes pointedly that Netflix’s expansion into Russia, plus a vast number of new territories, means that the streaming service is now available in 190 countries worldwide.

Wait a minute…

How many countries are there, you might ask?  196.  Or 195.

Poor Taiwan, they just can’t catch a break.

So then you might say, well…what the fuck?!?

What countries is Netflix NOT in???

It appears those countries are China, North Korea, Syria, and…Crimea?

Suffice it to say, the international “community” is not unanimous in their appraisal of Crimean statehood.

Is it part of Russia?

Is it part of Ukraine?

What do the words Republic of Crimea even mean if its not an independent country?

Which brings up the specter of “frozen conflict zones”.

I’m guessing that Netflix might be unavailable in Abkhazia, Nagorno-Karabakh, South Ossetia, and Transnistria.

But I digress…

Because we are on to more specific matters.

There are at least two major ways in which Americans can view the Romanian communist period as it has been depicted in motion pictures.

First, Americans can sympathize with the repression of the Romanian people.

Any doubters should do a little digging on the PATRIOT Act.

Indeed, the psychosis of surveillance (which is mentioned in Chuck Norris vs Communism) could not field a more forbidding bogeyman than the National Security Agency.

And so, dear peoples of the world, would you feel more or less safe living in the same country in which the NSA is headquartered?

Exactly.

Second, Americans could extrapolate Ms. Călugăreanu’s hypothesis to mean that countries such as China will eventually implode as a result of the fulminating combination of repression and technology (even, perhaps, with a starring role for entertainment).

All of that is to say that movies COULD bring down China or North Korea or even Iran.

[Notice the non-Netflix countries…Syria is without, but apparently Iran does have the service.]

Which is to ultimately say, Mr. Medinsky’s fear is completely warranted.

What is at stake in Russia?

The fall of Putin.

A sea change in leadership.

And I will be quite frank.

There is no doubt that Netflix’s catalog is heavily biased towards globalist propaganda.

One of the most glaring areas is India.

I can’t tell you how many watery, transparent premises there are on Netflix which are some permutation of a young person rebelling against a repressive culture.

It’s almost like they’re churning these formulaic films out in a factory.

Boy marries girl from lower caste.  Mayhem follows.

Girl goes to human rights court.  Happily ever after…

Boy rebels against father’s traditional ways [read:  religion].

I mean, at a certain point it’s just pathetic.

But we must hand it to Netflix for some (SOME) of their selections.

Actually, I have found a good many gems on the site.

But it is a very biased (and historically-uninformed collection).

In general, history doesn’t exist for Netflix.

Unless that history is the Holocaust.

Then, of course, there are a plethora of scenarios to “inform” you about the Nazis.

Make no mistake (my best Obama voice), the Nazis were bad.

Really bad.

But do we need 10 fucking films about the Holocaust?

And if Schindler’s List is the zenith of the genre, God help us…

But I digress again…

Chuck Norris vs Communism is a very beautiful film.

It’s about rebellion.

It’s about the little things we do to assert our existence.

And in this case, it’s about a translator (a voiceover dubbing artist) who reached the hearts of innumerable Romanians.

Irina Nistor.

Whether it was Chuck Norris, or Jean-Claude Van Damme, or Sylvester Stallone, Irina’s voice made the dialogue come alive in Romanian.

But it was a subversive activity.

“Imperialist” films were not allowed in Romania.

But Romania was falling apart.

To take the interviewees of our documentary at their word, their lives sucked…without “video” night.

But we must be clear.

Everything (EVERYTHING) about this enterprise was illegal in Romania.

First, the videos had to be smuggled across the border.

Then they had to be copied and dubbed (voiceover).

Then they had to be distributed.

Then some brave schmucks took the risk of screening these films on their TV sets (for a few lei, of course).

But it was dangerous business.

Especially if you were the kingpin.

So it is then strange to meet this kingpin of video piracy face to face.

Zamfir.

Not the guy with the panpipes.

No, this was Teodor Zamfir.

Made a pretty penny.

But the fascinating thing (by Călugăreanu’s hypothesis) is that he completely changed Romanian culture.

The seeds of revolution were sown by Dirty Dancing, Last Tango in Paris, The King of Comedy

And especially by the action films.

Rocky, Rambo, Lone Wolf McQuade…

And so, if you want to piss off a communist (or socialist, or whatever they’re going by these days), you can go with the familiar tack,

“Didn’t they already try that?  Wasn’t it an immense failure?”

I don’t know.

But I don’t doubt the faces of those who lived through Ceaușescu.

No national cinema has been nearly as effective as the Romanian in communicating to the West just what life under communism was like.

And so Romania becomes our lens into the Soviet Union and its satellite states.

I know there are Russians who fondly remember communism.

Let’s be clear:  capitalism can also suck.

Change and upheaval can be deadly.

They say, “Watch the price of eggs” (to demonstrate how a free market dictates prices).

But we see a very similar discontent in the Middle East.

Is this democracy?

Fuck this!

Yes, America has made some mistakes.

And so we should watch everything with a critical eye.

Be your own critic.

Be like Emerson.

Be bold.

And then double back.

Waffle.

Live by palimpsest.

Because you are the ultimate philosopher.

For your life.

I can’t tell you.

And you can’t tell me.

We have to learn.

It must be the right time.

To receive a particular lesson.

I draw courage from Irina Margareta Nistor.

But most of all, I draw courage from the Romanian people.

Perhaps my country’s Hollywood crap (the stuff I took for granted) was just the stuff necessary in the dark times.

Entertainment.  Ass kicking.  Escape.

But the Romanian cinema of today inspires me beyond words.

And so let us remember, whether we are capitalists or socialists, the price paid by the people of Romania in December 1989.

Was it 1,100 people?

11,000 people?

110,000 people?

It’s troubling that nobody knows for sure.

But even if it was a thousand people.

They didn’t just get trampled by goats or run over by garbage trucks.

It wasn’t a bloodless revolution.

At least 1000 people.

They saw their moment.

They seized on a moment.

They capitalized on their opportunity.

There was something which impelled them not to just sit at home and listen.

I salute these brave souls who went out into the streets.

For a thousand people to have died, it seems rather inconceivable that there wasn’t an attempt made by the government to “restore order”.

That’s the line which can’t be crossed.

That’s when a government has lost its legitimacy.

Some stories are twisted.

And full-blown civil wars do erupt.

But it appears, in the end, that repression lost.

And repression, censorship, and heavy-handed tactics (whether adopted by socialists or capitalists) should, by historical lesson, be most strictly avoided.

It is human nature.

The people will not tolerate being treated like livestock.

And something as seemingly inconsequential as VHS tapes can tip the balance.

-PD

Yang Tidak Dibicarakan Ketika Membicarakan Cinta [2013)

By the grace of God I bring you this film review tonight.

Last night I was not feeling well enough to write.

And so I am happy to give you my first review of an Indonesian film.

It is a wonderful piece of cinema and is available on Netflix in the U.S. currently as What They Don’t Talk About When They Talk About Love.

I will just say this.

Any film which includes a character sneezing his glass eye out of his head is ok by me.

Which is to say, this is a pretty strange film.

But it is not strange in an uptight, contrived, David Lynch sort of way.

Perhaps it is the basic situation which makes this film quixotic.

The bulk of the “action” takes place at a “special” school (as it is called in the subtitles).

The beautiful young people at this school all struggle with visual impairment.

There is, however, one very important character who is sighted yet cannot hear.

[We will get to him in due time]

When I tried to watch this film last night, I was not feeling very well (as mentioned previously).

And so in my debilitating moments of bubbling, dull panic I was trying to first situate this film culturally.

There was some blurb about a Dutch film fund.

And the real bit of text at the head of the film which threw me off the scent:  a reference to the Busan film fund.

Knowing Busan, I figured, “Great!  I am watching a South Korean film.”

I felt somewhat comfortable marginally knowing the cinema tradition in which I had just entered.

But as I saw women and young girls in Muslim garb, I began to question.

Indeed, even on tonight’s complete viewing, it was only 3/4 of the way through the film that I realized I was watching an Indonesian production.

Call me stupid.

Fine.

But this is not a cinema (nor a language) with which I have any experience.

It was only when I saw Jakarta on the side of a bus that I felt fairly confident where the story had been set.

So yes, this is an Indonesian film in Indonesian (or dare I say Malay).

The scope and breadth of this language is not altogether clear to me, but it seems that Indonesian is a “register” (in linguistic terms) of Malay.

Being the dunce that I am, “register” seems an awful lot like “dialect”, but I’m sure most linguists would roundly dismiss this generalization.

Perhaps “jargon” is a better synonym for “register”.

In any case, Malay (of one type or another) is spoken by about 290 million people worldwide.

But we will stick to the term Indonesian (as per the language).

Our whole film is in that language (except for one line in Javanese).

Javanese, unlike Indonesian, is not a form of Malay.

It is quite distinct.

But on to the movie!

First we must pay our respects to the highly-talented director:  Mouly Surya.

Based on a cursory search, this would be Mr. Surya (Mouly being far more common as a male name).

Ah…but thank God for research!

Our director, in fact, is MS. Surya.

She is a 36-year-old native of Jakarta.

But really, male or female, this is an obvious work of cinematic art.

What They Don’t Talk About When They Talk About Love isn’t perfect, but it’s frighteningly close.

Which isn’t to say it’s frightening.

It’s not.

But it’s a film which sneaks up on you.

Cineastes may be familiar with the term “slow cinema” which has been bandied about here and there especially in recent years.

There may be some of that here…like when the character Diana combs her hair exactly 100 times.

[I was sure she was going to stop at 88…that number being good luck in Southeast Asian cultures]

Indeed, we are with the character for a seemingly interminable session of hair-brushing at her “boudoir”.

However, that is one of the few times where the “slow cinema” idea has our film run astray temporarily.

Other uses of the technique (an extreme of Deleuze’s “time-image”?) are quite effective and evoke the loneliness of sightless life.

Granted, no two lives are the same.

But the Indonesia pictured in our film is not an economic wonderland.

Quite the opposite.

It is a rather humble school in which students have very basic accommodations.

And as is so often the case, economic struggles exacerbate and compound coexisting problems.

But don’t get me wrong:  it appears that the students portrayed actually have it very lucky in the context of their nation (all things considered).

Arguably the star of the film is Karina Salim.

Her situation is one of ballet lessons…and a doting mother.

That said, her roommate has a family which is struggling economically.

It is a strange juxtaposition.

But let’s focus on Ms. Salim.

Her acting is really fantastic.

Whether she is blind in real life, I know not.

But her portrayal of the character Diana is in the great tradition of pathos which touched on the works of Beethoven and Tchaikovsky.

The French adjective pathétique.

In English, we (if I may speak for us English speakers) tend to regard pathétique as descriptive of poetic pathos.

Deep expression.

And that is exactly what Karina Salim exhibits in her delicate acting throughout this film.

Her character, Diana, is right on the cusp of womanhood.

And in a very moving set of sequences, we see her quietly preparing her underwear for the week.

The moment of her first menstruation is a cause for secret celebration.

Indeed, she shares this ascent to adulthood with only her mother…on a joyous little phone call which we overhear.

Which brings us to culture.

We almost feel embarrassed knowing this intimate detail of character Diana’s life.

But American films are so much more explicit in so many ways.

Perhaps we are shocked because the reality of womanhood is rarely addressed in Hollywood movies.

And so we see that Hollywood still has taboos.

In this age in which anything goes, honest depiction of mundane-yet-visceral life realities (such as menstruation) are all but absent (save from a film like Carrie [1976]).

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this particular kind of honesty about femininity onscreen.

But what the hell do I know?  I’m a dude.

So let’s back to the film.

While Ayushita is very good as Diana’s roommate, it is really Nicholas Saputra who is the other star of this film.

His character is a deaf punk rocker.

[Let that one sink in for a second]

Every day he has a different shirt.

The Sex Pistols.  Led Zeppelin (?!?).  The Clash.  Joan Jett.

He definitely has the best hairstyle in the film.

[A strange zig-zag bleach job which I’ve never seen previously]

His character Edo is a social engineer par excellence.

Yes, there is some trickery in this film.

But it is not malicious.

Or if it begins as malicious, it is transformed into something quite beautiful.

[think Amélie]

But here’s where things get really strange.

There is really no decorous way of putting this, but there are a few characters in this film which pop up from time to time…AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHO THEY ARE!

There is a rather tasteless meme going back generations that all Chinese people look the same to a Westerner.

[And, perhaps, all Brits (for instance) look the same to a Chinese person]

But, again, there are some characters in this film which seem to be playing out some subplot which escaped me completely.

Indeed, I have so rarely seen anything like it that I can only associate my confusion with that felt by so many in relation to the surreal Howard Hawks narrative in The Big Sleep.

Granted, in our film this is a very minor element.

But it is still disorienting.

Was there some series of edits which mangled this film?

Can I really not tell one Indonesian person from another?

I don’t know.

You’ll have to see it for yourself.

And explain to me exactly what is going on.

For instance, does the blind character Andhika somehow learn how to drive a Vespa around town?

And is he cheating on Diana?

Or is Diana cheating on herself?

Are there two Dianas?

Again, a few scenes completely lost me.

But they do not ruin the general continuity of this film.

If anything, they add a mercurial charm to the whole affair.

And so I wholeheartedly recommend this film which portrays a side of life on which many of us are completely uninformed.

Visual impairment.  Braille.  Hearing impairment.  The difficulty of asking a clerk at 7-Eleven, “what kind of cigarettes do girls buy” in sign language.

And there is beauty in this world.

The appreciation for just a glimmer of sight (however blurry).

And yet, the difficulty of EVERY SINGLE TASK.

Most of all, this is a love story.

Two love stories (at least).

[not counting the extraneous players which pop up here and there]

But it is a very, VERY unique love story.

For me, it is an incredibly moving film because of the acting of Karina Salim and also Anggun Priambodo (who plays Andhika).

So take an adventure to Jakarta.  Capital of Indonesia.  World’s fourth-most-populous country.

While Indonesia is approximately 87% Muslim, this film portrays a diversity of religious devotion.

Indeed, while one student prays, another listens to a radio play (as one would have heard in the days of Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce on The New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes [1939-1946]).

Indeed, this scene of overlap…with religion in the background (the praying student) and learning in the foreground (listening to a lesson?  or just a bit of entertainment for the girls who live at this school?) is one of the most fascinating from a visual and cultural perspective.

I cannot pretend to know what is going on in all of the footage.

And so an expert on education for the visually impaired in Indonesia would perhaps be able to elucidate some of the more esoteric aspects of this film.

In the meantime, enjoy!

-PD

Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? [2000)

This is a damn fine film.

Maybe yesterday I would have spoke as much with a mouthful of tobacco.

But today I take a more measured approach.

And still I must proclaim:  this film has aged like a fine wine.

I can find little fault with it.

No film will express all that we hold inside…exactly as we’d express it.

And so this is as close as we get to serendipity on a Tuesday night 🙂

Yes sir…let me tell you ’bout it.

I write to stay alive.

[now I’m telling you about me…or the film…by way of me]

We come from a long/short tradition.

Film critics.

Critics.

All the way back to the earliest Homer in the Greek.

Rage.

I owe Nick Tosches a debt of gratitude for pointing that out.

My favorite living writer.

This film [we’re back to the film] could have gone off the rails early on.

Like some errant Ken Burns pablum on PBS.

But the Coen brothers are of the most deft cinematic touch.

I have delved very little into their oeuvre.

Most recently I broached the subject with Fargo (a fine film), but Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? is a bona fide 😉 masterpiece.

You see, you must be conversant in naïveté as much as in erudition.

You must run the gamut from Delmar to Ulysses in order to evoke an appropriately universal sampling of the human condition.

Blind on a Pullman.  Nay.  Blind Sheriff Murnau.  Closer.

Blind but now I see.

Precisely.

Bill Moyers couldn’t get to Shakespeare in the recessed library.

Only God could move fate.

To see beauty.

For a moment to dream of a better life.

Saved from cancer.

I know not.

We feel it’s Isaiah.  Or the Oracle of Delphi.

Pythia.  As in pithy.

Icy.

You don’t get credit for half a master’s degree.

Ain’t no one in the world impressed by that.

Even if they should.

People like awards.  Bob Dylan said.

Grammys.  Nobels.

Sells records.  Books.  DVDs.  Tickets for admission.  Memorabilia.

But I doff my hat to Tosches and Quintilian.

We are all excursus.  As Céline was all ellipses.

[…]

The Sheriff is Cooley.  As in Spade.

A mean son of a bitch.

But we don’t care none about these transgressors no more.

The electorate has spoken.

50 states.

From the words Tommy Johnson.

It’s just a cool drink of water from Robert.

And we won’t even get into Lonnie.

We hear the devil is white.

Go to any American university and you will hear the same.

Indeed, our film only falters when it attempts to be too heavy-handed.

We uncloak what is cloaked in ourselves.

And this is the curse of critics.

No critic is writing about their subject.

In reality.

The underlying gist is always autobiography.

To admit as much should be refreshing.

But that is for you to decide.

Just sing into the can.

Voice your opinion.

On shellac.

For generations to plunder in treasure hunts of old South junk stores.

Searching for the Sugar Man/Soggy Bottom…Robert Johnson already dead when he became   sought after.

A prophet in his own land.

All is dream.  And religion comes to the silver screen.

The common man can relate.  And so can I.

With my Bible on my nightstand.

I ain’t ashamed to say.

I depend on God.

See Messiaen if you need abstraction.

Because Debussy gave the clouds first…and the sirens last.

And feasts or parties in between.

Night swimming.  Nocturnes.  Campfires.  Skip James.

Pulled from routine.

We were nearly eaten alive.

And we would have dived into that abyss out of desperation.

Yet the hand of the Lord was upon us.

Not for any deed which had ingratiated ourselves to Him.

But for grace.

Mercy.

Love.

No horror here.  Just a toad.  And Mark Twain.

And how to keep tobacco dry on a Mississippi River boat.

Uncle Sweetheart smells blood.

Years before Masked and Anonymous.

So be careful not to fall in love with your own reflection.

She said he was hit by a train.

And she looked good in a bikini.

To three pathetic roustabouts with no prospects.

Chewed up and spit out by both Tropics to wade in the water of possibility.

Nerds can box.

Maybe know an arcane martial art.

Don’t fuck with us.

But protagonists of epic poetry need something more than a couple of jabs and pinches.

Circumstances must have placed them in a true imbroglio…the mother of all situations.

The Gordian knot.

Ulysses is a lying bastard.  A mad man.  Advertising.  Op side coin propaganda.

But these are skills.  For gainful employment.  And we hover to ethics for guidance.

On how to wield words in the age of microblogging and memes.

He needed a story.

Chained together.

An inspiration.

Because we’re (for all intents and purposes) inseparable.

We can dream of $500,000 ($400,000)…as the “major D”…even the mâitre’d…if we’re feeling saucy.

Dream of land.

But what was Everett’s dream?

We know only later.

To spend 84 years in jail.

Released:  1987.

Incarcerated at age 3?

Not counting on these two to do the taxes.

The KKK took his baby away.  –Joey Ramone

Seems very Bohemian Grove.

But we don’t know these things.

We only know what we’ve gleaned from D.W. Griffith.

These synchronized David Dukes are meant to evoke a temple of doom.

It is the hinge (brisure) in the whole film (if we are doing a deconstructionist reading à la Derrida).

And thus auteur theory is vindicated.

Joel Coen had something to get off his chest regarding the treatment of blacks, JEWS, Catholics, etc.

We could deconstruct from there.

It’s easy.

Top psychiatrist Steve Pieczenik does it breezily when he traces Jill Stein back to her Jewish Chicago roots which give her the privilege to run as an agnostic.

But the Coen brothers are timeless artists here.

They have found the trick.

Hillary’s coven must have been on hiatus for the past few weeks.

Demoralized.

But it’s hard to fight back the tears as they get in front of that lozenge mic I’d associate with RCA…

As the Soggy Bottom Boys emerge from obscurity.

And they have a fan base (constituents).

And these mythical performers were not even confirmed to exist.

In the flesh.

Ah, but public relations…

He was proto- “drain the swamp” with his little man and broom.

But the planets shifted.

And he’s on a hot mic inserting both feet into his mouth, one at a time, very slowly, with each succeeding word.

The way politics works.

In Mississippi.  Louisiana.  Texas.

Suck on a cigar.  Think it over.  Maybe some cognac or brandy.

And seize upon an opportunity.

To hire the best.

The best who have appeared on this stage at this moment for this very reason.

Three years after Titanic and the Coen brothers wanted a weightless freak show of inanimate objects floating as Japanese melange symbolism.

I am the man with the can.  Not Dapper Dan.  And no record-cutting lathe.

Just a tin of tobacco.  My floating life.  And all we’ve been through.

Memory soup.

We pull up to the aquarium to peer into the mysteries of other realities.

And, by so doing, try to make sense out of our own.

-PD

Trump vs. Clinton, October 19 [2016)

As I write this, the United States is undergoing a soft (so far) coup d’état and, thank God, a countercoup (also soft…so far).

There are no tanks in the streets.  No physical bridges closed.  But the competing coups are very real and in progress at this time.

This might be hard for my international readers to wrap their heads around.

Likewise, my domestic readers (if there are any) are perhaps equally perplexed by the statements I’ve just made.

For different reasons, these two audiences (my dear readers) have probably not heard ANYTHING about this coup.

And yet I am not exercising hyperbole.

You WON’T hear anything about these competing coups in the media of the “new world order” (or, more accurately, the “old world order”).

Nothing on the BBC.  Nothing from AFP.  Maybe (maybe) something from Russian or Chinese or Iranian sources.  Maybe something from North Korea.

As for the US, there is a complete blackout on all the major channels of media communication concerning this digital coup taking place.

WikiLeaks is very much a part of it.  But even more so, it is the globalist Clinton cabal against a very brave movement seemingly spearheaded by US military intelligence.

I cannot claim to understand exactly what is going on.

But Hillary Clinton is being warned by the US intelligence community and US military to stand down.

Meaning, she has been warned publicly that the game is up.

The main spokesman of the countercoup has been the extremely brave and wise Dr. Steve Pieczenik.

And so, dear readers, you might be able (from this) to fathom just why I have decided to write once again on this Presidential election.

There are no more debates.

The third and final one.

In what is turning out to be an American revolution.

While moderator Chris Wallace was not perfect (he grilled Trump just as the transparently partisan previous moderators had), he did a generally passable job here.

Hillary got the first question.

Clinton:  “You know, I think when we talk about the Supreme Court, it really raises the central issue in this election.”

Translation:  “I know you don’t like me (and that includes my ‘voters’), but just remember that without me you won’t get to have abortions any more.  AND…you won’t have someone to take the guns away from the rednecks.  So vote for me, even though you hate me.  Thank you.”

Clinton:  “And I feel strongly that the Supreme Court needs to stand on the side of the American people. Not on the side of the powerful corporations and the wealthy.”

Hahahahaha….ahhhhhhh…this lady cracks me up!  The hubris!!!

Hillary then speaks of “dark, unaccountable money”:  something on which she’s an expert.

And that, my friends, is at the heart of the countercoup.

As I write, Hillary Clinton is under so much investigation by the FBI (including the Clinton Foundation) it’s not even funny.

Hillary punctuates her sermon with “That’s how I see the court.,” but there might be another court she’ll be seeing very soon (one which is trying HER).

Hillary’s self-righteous proclamation of “standing up to the powerful” is absolute bollocks.

She continues, “I would hope that the Senate would do its job…”.

This lady is one to talk!  Look at the “job” SHE did as Secretary of State!!!

Unbelievable that her Janus routine is so seemingly effortless.

Hillary says that the Senate’s job is to, “…confirm the nominee that President Obama has sent to them.”  Actually, that’s one of two options…of “doing their job”.  And by not even getting to that fork in the decision tree, the Senate is saying (regarding Obama’s nominee), “Hell no!”.

But in Hillary’s world, peons like the Senate just “confirm”.  They don’t question.  They just take orders.

Well, not for long…Hillary.

Trump:  “Something happened recently where Justice Ginsburg made some very inappropriate statements toward me and toward a tremendous number of people.”

Yes, we all hope Ruth Bader quits.  It would only be fair, seeing as how Scalia was most likely whacked down on the Texas border.

Hillary almost breaks into fake Southern drawl when she feigns respect for the Second Amendment:  “I lived in Arkansas for 18 wonderful years.”

And I’m sure she hated every minute of it.  Such a boring task being a social climber in a backwoods like Arkansas!

But, you see, Hillary has been waiting for this her whole life.  And that’s why she is refusing to stand down (so far) as the US intelligence community has requested (John Brennan notwithstanding).

Hillary:  “But there is no doubt that I respect the second amendment.”

No, in fact there are VERY BIG doubts that you do.

But how do we know that Hillary is fake?

Because she can’t even come up with her own words.

As she apes Obama (“common sense regulation”), we know which side of the fence she sits on.

She is all about confiscating firearms BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY (like the fake Sandy Hook “shooting”).

Hillary:  “And you know, look. I understand that Donald has been strongly supported by the NRA, the gun lobby is on his side. They’re running millions of dollars of ads against me…”

Nice try…complaining that your overwhelming advantage in corporate donations (and the related, overwhelming ratio of Clinton to Trump ads) has not been enough.

Hillary:  “…and I regret that”.

The only thing she regrets is that Robby “Take The Money” Mook couldn’t convince the NRA that Hillary was pro-gun.  And not even a shyster like David Plouffe could have convinced them of that!

Trump:  “And I don’t know if Hillary was saying it in a sarcastic manner but I’m very proud to have the endorsement of the NRA and it was the earliest endorsement they’ve ever given to anybody who ran for president.”

Sarcastic.  Facetious.  Disingenuous.

Indeed, every Hillary statement is something other than what it seems.

Every word out of her mouth is a false flag.

Hillary Clinton refers to abortion as “health care”.

I shit you not!

Hillary:  “So many states are putting very stringent regulations on women that block them from exercising that choice…”

Oh boo hoo hoo!

Hillary again resorts to euphemism in calling euthanasia (death, murder…), “healthcare decisions.”

This is a pretty sick, diabolical woman.

Hillary:  “We have come too far to have that turn back now.”

There have, even by CDC statistics, been 52 million (million!) abortions in the United States…since just 1970.

Let me put that in perspective.  If North Korea nuked South Korea tomorrow and killed EVERY SINGLE South Korean, there would by 50 million dead South Koreans.

Are you beginning to get the magnitude of the drive-thru nature of US abortion?

Clinton:  “The kinds of cases that fall at the end of pregnancy are often the most heartbreaking, painful decisions for families to make.”

Or, for Hillary, joyful.

Clinton:  “I do not think the United States government should be stepping in and making those most personal of decisions.”

So Hillary is all for the freedom of mothers to murder babies, but she’s up in arms (no pun intended) when the safety of “toddlers” is endangered by firearms.

Right.  Makes perfect sense.

In other words, the government would be taking firearms to protect “toddlers” (District of Colombia v. Heller), but the government shouldn’t dare interfere with the murder of unborn children.

Got it?

Just wanna make sure we’re clear on Madame Secretary.

Trump scored his first credulity points merely by tone of voice (and amplified by ethical position) when he intoned, “…but it’s not okay with me.”

Exactly.  Hillary Clinton wants to globalize death.  She wants to export it in the form of war.  She wants to import it in the form of mass immigration.  And, not least, she wants the citizenry unarmed so that she and her pals like George Soros can more efficiently exterminate any lowly Americans who disagree with her governance.

Trump:  “And that’s not acceptable.”

Thank you, Mr. Trump.

When Trump describes late-term abortions in some detail, Hilary retorts that his descriptions are “scare rhetoric.”

Right…  Get an abortion.  Everybody’s doing it.  And get a new pair of sunglasses.  Accessorize your abortion.  Make it festive.

Hillary:  “You should meet with some of the women I’ve met with. Women I’ve known over the course of my life.”

You mean like Saudi spy Huma Abedin?  Or do you, more accurately, mean “girls”?  How does Jeffrey Epstein figure into your respect for women?  Because you and Bill know him quite well…and Jeffrey (the sex offender) Epstein likes ’em YOUNG!  [And, as has been established beyond a shadow of a doubt, Hillary prefers females to males (as far as arousal goes).]

But Hillary reframes…like the slimy lawyer she is:  “…choices that any woman and her family has to make.”

Oh.  So it’s not a woman’s right to choose?  It’s a family’s right to choose?  So the decision is equally incumbent upon the man’s consent?  Or is he just supposed to “confirm” like your dream Senate?

Hillary:  “You know, I’ve had the great honor of traveling across the world on behalf of our country.”

She came.  She saw.  He died.

Yes, Hillary Clinton actually said (not in this debate), “I came.  I saw.  He died” in reference to Libya and Gaddafi.  After “died”, she let out a little gleeful laugh.

I wonder if that same laugh greeted the news that Ambassador Stevens and three other Americans died in Libya on account of Hillary?  I wonder if she even cared enough to laugh?

Probably not.  Because killing Gaddafi was an accomplishment (for her).  Something to put on her résumé…always social climbing…always for this moment…as Princess of America…so close…

I will give Hillary credit.  At least she’s conversant with natalist Romania (probably because of the insidious (artful!) propaganda of 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days).

Hillary:  “…decisions that women make with their families in accordance with their faith.”

Which “faiths” condone abortion?  I know not all are as strict as Catholicism (at least until Pope Francis ruins the religion), but there aren’t any “faiths” coming to mind that would be in “accord” with abortion.  Perhaps my religious scholarship is lacking.

Trump isn’t drooling out the same globalist shit.

Donald:  “We have no country if we have no border.”

Are you seeing why this guy is winning?  NO ONE has EVER said that at the highest levels of US government.  People here have NEVER had a choice to vote for someone so opposed to the globalist grand design.

But Trump isn’t just taking on the suit-and-tie gangsters like David Rockefeller and George Soros. Like a goddamned Eliot Ness, he’s taking on the “bad hombres”:  the drug lords.

This man has huge, brass testicles to go down this path.

And we love him for it!

Clinton:  “…I was thinking about a young girl I met here in Las Vegas…”

I BET YOU WERE!

Hillary only dislikes scare tactics WHEN SHE’S NOT USING THEM!

Listen to her frame deportation of illegal immigrants in Auschwitz terms:

“every undocumented person would be subject to deportation. Here’s what that means. It means you would have to have a massive law enforcement presence where law enforcement officers would be going school to school, home to home, business to business. Rounding up people who are undocumented. And we would then have to put them on trains…”

Maybe Soros recounted his remorseless collusion with the Nazis.  Maybe they shared a laugh.  Maybe the metteur en scène Steven Spielberg “authored” the above paragraph.

But it’s not working.  The propaganda.  The social engineering.

But Hillary dug her own grave.

Trump could kick back and watch her self-destruct.

Wallace: “Secretary Clinton, I want to clear up your position on this issue because in a speech you gave to a Brazilian bank for which you were paid $225,000, we’ve learned from Wikileaks, that you said this. And I want to quote. ‘My dream is a hemispheric common market with open trade and open borders.’”

Trump:  “Thank you.”

Clinton: “If you went on to read the rest of the sentence, I was talking about energy.”

Of which you have none left.

The game is over.

Your goose is cooked.

No more bald-faced lies about “energy” (the borders would only be open for energy…yeah right), Abraham Lincoln (her “public” and “private” positions doctrine…which she claims to have taken from Honest Abe [you can’t make this shit up]…by way of a Spielberg movie [I knew he had to be involved, somehow…that hack!]), etc.

Hillary Clinton called one of our ostensibly greatest Presidents, Abraham Lincoln (aka Honest Abe), a liar on national television.

This woman!  Like the pot calling the stovepipe hat black…

The game’s up Hillary.

Time to stand down.

Or, in legal language (which you might be hearing an awful lot of in the coming months), cease and desist.

-PD

Hudutların Kanunu [1966)

I could have sworn the titles said Hududların Kanunu, but there’s never any mistakes on Wikipedia, right? 

So we are going with Hudutların Kanunu.

The Law of the Border.

And it is such an honor to review another Turkish film.

I must say, this one really “spoke” to me.

Not only does Yılmaz Güney play the lead role of Hidir, but this same actor also wrote the screenplay.

As I watched Yılmaz Güney’s wonderful portrayal of the smuggler Hidir, I was reminded of Antonin Artaud’s acting in La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc.

Güney’s penetrating eyes and stoic face are very similar to Artaud’s physical features.

But not only that.

It occurs to me that Güney bears a striking resemblance to a more contemporary figure:  Vladimir Putin.

This is all the more interesting when one considers that Güney was born Yılmaz Pütün.

Hmmm…

Güney was a Zaza Kurd who apparently got in trouble often with the Turkish government.

He died an early death at age 47 (in 1984).

Whether Hudutların Kanunu is propaganda is beside the point.

It certainly has traits of propaganda films, but it’s such a damn good movie that it doesn’t really matter.

Yes, there is a social justice angle to Güney’s story, but much credit should go to the wonderful directing job of Ömer Lütfi Akad.

Though Güney himself was a director as well, he did not direct this film.

Güney, by the way, had a fascinating life (including an escape from prison in 1981 and a subsequent Palme d’Or at Cannes for the film Yol).

[Sounds a bit like Timothy Leary’s prison-break and rendezvous in Switzerland with Ash Ra Tempel.]

If my numbers are correct, Güney acted in 14 films released in 1966 (!) [including this one] and also directed one as well.

Only one copy of Hudutların Kanunu survived Ahmet Kenan Evren’s 1980 coup in Turkey.

I would describe this wonderful film as being like a 1960s Turkish version of Sicario.

Though The Law of the Border is not a big-budget movie (a military officer comically says “let’s surround them” when he only has three soldiers [himself included]), the film is overall convincing.  It conveys a very powerful story.

As stated earlier, the principal activity at issue is smuggling.

What could be more timely to this day and age?

In the US it is drugs (from Mexico), and in Turkey it is perhaps other things (coming in and out of Syria).

And if the main character looks like Putin?!?

Well, it certainly confuses the meaning, but it still makes it like a Salvador Dalí dream.

It’s like a perfect storm of symbolism.

Furthermore, besides being a film set on a border, a main issue is education in Turkey.

This is, once again, a very timely issue.

As you might have heard last year, there were many protests by high school students in Turkey about the trend of religious schools replacing secular (or science) schools.

Incidentally, our director Ömer Lütfi Akad went to the oldest high school in Turkey:  Galatasaray Lisesi in Istanbul.  The school was started in 1481.

But let me tell you something important…

This film is very entertaining!!!

The gunfights!

Whizz!  Bing!  Pow!

It reminds me a bit of Howard Hawks’ Scarface from 1932.

Also at issue in this film is the concept of change.

Can a person change their beliefs?

Like me…

Can I change my beliefs?

I am 39.

Yılmaz Güney was 29 at the time of this film.

Can we change our beliefs?

And should we?

For Güney’s character Hidir, changing his beliefs is a Herculean effort.

And the moral of the somewhat-propagandistic story is that he’s a hero…JUST FOR TRYING.

He tried to change.

He makes a valiant effort.

A bit like Samuel L. Jackson’s character Jules Winnfield in Pulp Fiction.

This is the challenge for the world.

To look ourselves in our mirrors and make an effort.

Not physically (necessarily), but philosophically.

I’m not here to offer you propaganda.

But I am very concerned with the situation the real Vladimir Putin has been put in in Syria.

Why do we fight? [to echo the old series of American propaganda films from WWII]

We fight for the same reason anyone else does.

Or rather, Putin fights because he has drawn a line.

No more American aggression.

Syria is his line.

It’s not a game.

It’s real blood and real tears.

Proxy wars are not like AGMs (annual general meetings).

They are more like air-to-ground missiles (AGMs).

War is not a strictly academic affair.

It’s messy.  It’s sad.  It’s unnecessary (most of the time).

And the US and Russia have painted themselves into a corner.

That corner is Syria.

Perhaps Hudutların Kanunu is the Sholay of Turkey.

Perhaps it is The Good, the Bad and the Ugly of Anatolia.

One thing is sure:  Yılmaz Güney, “the Ugly King” (Çirkin Kral), was a brilliant man.

 

-PD

Riso Amaro [1949)

Robert Bresson said, “I believe in cinema.”

In English?  Like that?  I don’t know.

But it is truly the thought which counts here.

Because I believe in cinema.

Cinema.

Maybe it’s my favorite word.

My religion.

The great omnist hymn of all lands.

Of all the hands which have pitched in to turn the wheels of the mind.

And so this film, Bitter Rice, is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.

Not because it is flowery and seductive. [It’s not flowery.]

Not because there are perfumed stars in diamonds. [There’s no perfume.]

But because it is real.

As real as cinema gets.

Not the hyperreal of Harmony Korine’s Gummo.

Not even the transparent real of documentary footage.

But a real which is uniquely Italian.

To say neorealism is to cheapen the whole creation.

This is a masterpiece by director Giuseppe De Santis.

You must live through the rain to understand it.

You must have had no hope to fathom the slop.

You must wade in de water.

Because you are seeing Italian opera.

There’s no speech in the field.

No talking.

Workers are in the prison of labor.

Same kinds of rules.

But if you sing, that’s tolerated.

And so it all must be sung.  In the fields.

Puccini famously bragged about his facility.

Give him a grocery list, he said.

And Willie Sutton had his hygiene and motivators covered.

Even if he never uttered the famous phrase.

He ENJOYED robbing banks.

And, yes, that was where the money was.

And so the field workers not only display humanism.

Not only embody feminism.

But engage in a little triage worthy of Sutton’s law.

Taking the poor girl to the embankment.

[They’re all poor.  This is 1949 Italy.]

It’s not psychotic fugue, but psychogenic fugue.

Fugue state.

Thuringia.

The Axis Powers played a very bad game of chess.

Stretto was the shit hitting the fan.

“Ride of the Valkyries” mixed with heavy artillery mixed with vocalizations of agony.

Ristretto is what you get at Starbucks.

But, dear friends, don’t stop after the first half.

Let it finish.

Let it bleed.

Shine a light.

For Silvana Mangano.

Sylvania.  Someone has etched the word “hope” into the light bulb’s socket.

In the Schwarzwald.

The deep eerie mystery of the woods.  And Hitler’s aerie.

[Godwin golden mean]

34 21 13 8

almost Fibonacci but ending

aND nothing more Italian that an actress named Doris Dowling.

But that’s the way it went.

Direct descendent of opera verismo.

Our old favorites Mascagni and Leoncavallo.

But Netflix hasn’t gotten at the heart of what this means.

“Strong female lead” or some such rubbish.

Nice try…

But Riso Amaro blows all those venal pigeonholing strategies out of the water.

Cinema is not my God.

Cinema is my religion.

 

-PD

Twin Peaks “Rest in Pain” [1990)

Science thinks it knows what religion doesn’t.

Religion thinks it knows what science doesn’t.

Science thinks.

Religion feels.

Romance is a sort of religion.

Unthinking.

But beautiful.

These are the issues in this rather unremarkable episode of Twin Peaks.

The romance of film criticism seeks to give no spoilers.

Break the code, solve the case.

Handwriting analysis…seems as old and mystical as phrenology.

Because today it is stylometry.

Were it not for Snowden, we’d still be in the dark.

ABSENCE OF LIGHT.

Hoping David Sanborn makes an album called Kryptos.

Or not.

I INSERTED THE CANDLE.

CAUSED THE FLAME TO FLICKER.

EMERGED FROM THE MIST.

There’s easier ways to get jobs.

To make verb tenses agree.

And to verb agreements tense.

Word pie lay.

The fragments are essential.

Each piece.

Piece by piece.

With ice cream on the side.

Huckleberry H.

Scalia was whisked off.

Like a broom.

He had been a jack of one-eyed secret society.  Guest.  SS.

Pound’s poetry didn’t go this deep.

But deeper.

To Colombian hell.

It’s trying to think.

Puttin’ on the Ritz.

I thought it was her.

A cipher.

Shame on me.

Eric Da Re.  Doremi Fasol Latido.

Rest in pain.

Jawohl.

The biggest asshole in television history.

Vs. a perception sharpest blade mind ever.

Even for an actor.

Kyle MacLachlan.

Sherlock Holmes.

A perverse sense of knowing.

Raymond Chandler.

Several stops and starts to get here.

Like the end of Vivre sa vie.

And like the beginning.

Michel Legrand subject to the most genius whims ever.

Lynch is our Godard.

Where the Germans have Schoenberg, we have Ives.

Not the best metaphor.

But perfect.

Length trying your patience.

I know.

Like the end of Vivre sa vie.

Where we don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

That is the bathos of mechanical mayhem.  Haywire sob hiccups.

G’uh g’uh g’uh.

Over and over and over and over and over again.

The Vladimir Poutine syndicate have goldBRICked with the Meow Zedong overseas intelligence amoeba to form a truly Quebecois brand of! Godspeed.

Kinda like that hockey scene from Strange Brew.

Messiaen at the organ.

ils.

Sont.  Hellfire.  Bohemian.

No Moloch or Moulouk can do it justice.

Moulouk vs. Bébert.

Oui.  C’est Ça.

There’s always two sets of books.

 

-PD

Vredens Dag [1943)

Quarante-et-un.  Quarante-deux.

Quarante trois.

Goddamn, life is sad.

This is not a film to be watched once.

And not a film for young minds (though the pearly Lisbeth Movin gausses gossamer every vignette).

Form ever follows function.  So sayeth Louis Sullivan.

Your gauss is as good as mien.

Meshes of the afternoon blur her tearstained smile.

Movin’ on up, now.

In evolution.  Function ever following form.

Invocation vs. induction.

Carl Friedrich’s magnetic flux density.

88 miles-per-hour for all us schmucks out there.

Who is crazier:

the witches or the witch hunt?

The conspirators or the conspiracy theorists?

Myths overlaid like handiwork upon reality.

So that all of life is misunderstood.

Religion.

Not a theory, but a story.

A hall-of-mirrors lens.

Same.

17th century.

By my watch.

What century you got?

The witch craze.

The accusation frenzy.

Hysteria.  Wisteria.  Listeria.

Meanwhile, there was a fucking war going on.

Day of Wrath.  Dies irae.  Rachmaninov obsessed with the downward spiral.

Televised executions.

The Houellebecq method of citation.

Tag and seek.

Luddites invading Fort Meade.

Digital grinders.  And grindermen.

That USJFCOM found an enemy at a propitious time.

Inviting Christensen down from Harvard Business School to disrupt.

From Häxan through the Swedish.

Most everything passes through Denmark here.

The last executioner.

The founder (with a Grinder man) of neuro-linguistic programming who was charged with murder.

Age differences in relationships.  [Aha!  A sesame seed!!]

Pagans.  Odin.  Wednesday.

Hair parted right down the middle like John Waters’ mustache migrated due north (prove that you’re not a robot).

Professional videogame player?!?  Where’s the market for that…

And, of course, The Gambia.  No industrial light nor magic there.

White white white.

White man say all good thing come from him.

White man invent every innovation.

White man naturally attracted to white woman.

A Victoria’s Secret Angel with leprosy.  Yowzah!

Norwegian jazz.  A bit like Utah jazz.

But, most of all, yodelers!

Which is how I got on this string.

The grave importance of string theory.

Because her needlepoint tells a story.

A mother walking hand-in-hand with a son.

But the mother is the younger one.

The two mothers.

One a goddess of archetype.

The other a bored housewife.

You actually have to go back to 1590 for this kind of boredom.

But it comes alive.  Kiss.

Thanks to Dreyer.  A true auteur.  A true Danish genius.

Anna Svierkier acts her flabby behind off.

Thorkild Roose looks like Hume Cronyn in Brewster’s Millions (1985).

Such sad perfection from Sigrid Neiiendam.

It is not the hero role for Preben Lerdorff Rye.

No Ordet, this.

He might be stuck in the bog.  Or he might have gone around the bog.

It’s like a bad porno.

But Movin is a star on the order of Adrianna Nicole.

The Blue Bunny.

Brown is the Warmest Color.

Somebody please cast Adrianna Suplick in something.

Suplick?  Movin.  [Golly.]

Which is to say that Lisbeth Movin fills up the screen like a supernova.

Collapsing.  Prolapsing.  Yikes…

Her husband cofounded the works at Hellerup.

Ketchup.

Godspeed you b!ack emperor tomato

Spells ALM.  And nobody thought code.

Fearsome beauty of genius.

 

-PD