Last Night in Soho [2021)

First off.

I am in love with Thomasin McKenzie.

I think Saoirse Ronan has lost her touch.

Kat Dennings doesn’t even bother with films anymore.

And Thora Birch is too much of a liberal moron.

But then all actors are liberal morons, aren’t they?

Except for a precious few.

Jon Voight.

James Woods.

Rob Schneider.

Kirstie Alley.

Robert Davi.

Jim Caviezel.

Secondly.

This film is a masterpiece.

Edgar Wright is the best filmmaker in the world right now.

Is he better than Jean-Luc Godard?

No.

But Godard is not making films for mass consumption.

Is he better than Wes Anderson?

BY A MILLION FUCKING MILES!!!

Don’t get me wrong.

Wes Anderson made one perfect film.

And that film was The Grand Budapest Hotel.

And that film wouldn’t have been perfect without Saoirse Ronan.

That’s how important her presence in that film was.

Saoirse has made another perfect film.

Hanna.

But her others are mediocre.

Brooklyn.

Meh.

Lady Bird.

Even more meh (not a good thing).

Saoirse has gone astray.

Just as Thora Birch went astray.

Ghost World is a perfect film.

And American Beauty is close to perfect.

For my money, Homeless to Harvard is her other perfect film.

Kat Dennings films kinda suck.

Her masterpiece is actually 2 Broke Girls.

I’m serious.

But that’s not cinema.

Twin Peaks is cinema.

Even though it’s a TV show.

Histoire(s) du cinéma is the best film ever made.

And it was made for TV.

Homeless to Harvard is a Lifetime movie.

Made for TV.

It is not cinema.

Not exactly.

But it may be a perfect film.

Wes Anderson made his perfect film with Saoirse Ronan.

And he made a good film (Tenenbaums).

The rest are shite.

I did not understand Edgar Wright’s film language when I first saw Shaun of the Dead.

I thought it was crap.

How wrong I was!

Here is my contention.

Every Edgar Wright film is perfect.

Shaun of the Dead?

Yes.

Hot Fuzz?

Yes.

The World’s End?

Yes.

Baby Driver?

Yes.

Scott Pilgrim?

Yes.

And this film is perfect too.

But this is not quite the Wright you are used to.

This is a genuinely scary film.

But it stands up with Psycho, Rosemary’s Baby, and The Shining as one of the four best horror films ever made.

Edgar Wright films are all about detail.

But not the twee obsession with detail that Wes Anderson has.

Edgar Wright is overflowing with talent.

Wes Anderson is not.

Anderson needed Saoirse Ronan to make his perfect film.

And there was a bit (just a bit!) of grit in Grand Budapest.

Saoirse is missing from his other films.

And there is no real grit in any of the others.

Tenenbaums is good.

But the Wes Anderson players are tiresome.

Is Bill Murray amazing?

Yes.

But are his performances in Wes Anderson films his best work?

Absolutely not.

No more Jason Schwatzman (for fuck’s sake!).

Is Luke Wilson a great actor?

Yes.

What’s his best film?

Masked and Anonymous.

Maybe it’s Paltrow and Hackman which make Tenenbaums good.

For my money, Luke Wilson is the one who makes that film go.

But it is not on the same level as Grand Budapest.

Last Night in Soho is the Grand Budapest of the ’20s.

We’re in the ’20s now.

Are they roaring?

Like a fucking mouse.

Last Night in Soho is a gazillion times better than No Time to Die.

This film has everything the Bond film didn’t.

Substance.

Competent directing.

A story worth sticking with.

And so it is fitting that Diana Rigg’s last role should absolutely trump the death of James Bond.

The one George Lazenby film was WAY better than No Time to Die.

The death of love is more sad than the death of the hero.

Diana Rigg is the linchpin in the Bond franchise.

Pull that thread, and the sweater unravels.

Léa Seydoux is boring as fuck in the Bond films.

She was great in Blue.

But she was nothing compared to the one who carried that film (Adele Exarchopoulos).

Exarchopoulos made one perfect film.

Blue is the Warmest Color.

None of her other films are even good.

Wright makes what Youth in Revolt might have been.

He is not glib.

This is not a hipster film.

Michael Cera (who has made one perfect film [Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist]) is, mercifully, NOT in Last Night in Soho.

[correction…Kat Dennings DID make one perfect film]

Thomasin McKenzie’s obsession with ’60s London music is real.

It’s not a fucking Austin Powers joke.

Rita Tushingham is wonderful as Gram.

Excellent casting.

[take note, Bond franchise]

Thomasin hooks up with a black dude.

No big deal.

Take note, Bond franchise.

NOT EVERY FUCKING PERSON HAS TO BE BLACK IN ORDER FOR A FILM TO BE VIABLE!!!

Thomasin’s love interest is a black fellow.

I have no problem with that.

He does a good job.

For fuck’s sake…he doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page!

Michael Ajao.

Fine acting!

There can be important black characters WITHOUT A FILM BEING A WOKE FUCKING JOKE (like the recent Bond film).

No big deal.

Don’t make it a big deal.

It has to fit with the story.

The story is the most important thing.

The writers of the Bond film (Purvis and Wade) have allowed their name to be attached to the fucking pathetic shit of No Time to Die.

So you get a kiwi to speak in a Cornish accent.

GREAT ACTRESS!

Thomasin McKenzie.

Say that name with me.

Jacinda Ardern’s father (or mother?) was a horse.

Ugly bitch.

Ugly soul.

Thomasin McKenzie is the best thing to ever come out of New Zealand.

However, there has been one perfect kiwi movie:  Eagle vs Shark.

Synnøve Karlsen is so fucking annoying in Soho.

And she was supposed to be.

So, good job (I guess).

Every film needs a villain.

And Jocasta (Karlsen’s character) is the real villain of this film.

Thomasin is different.

Jocasta beats her down.

Mentally.

A stingy spirit.

Can never share in any of her joys.

Do you know anyone like that?

But Thomasin is troubled.

Hallucinations?

Maybe.

Seeing ghosts?

Maybe.

We’re trying to solve a case here.

Cold case.

Maybe a lot of cold cases.

Maybe a serial killer.

To the Belle and Sebastian bedsit.

Salad days are short-lived.

Don’t underestimate Sandie Shaw.

Always something there to remind me.

1964.

Puppet on a string.

Gotta pay your dues.

As a wind-up bird girl.

Brian Epstein.

Giorgio Gomelsky.

Andrew Loog Oldham.

ABKCO.

The influence of Vertigo upon Last Night in Soho cannot be understated.

The red of the Café de Paris.

The blonde of Anya Taylor-Joy’s hair.

And Thomasin’s hair.

[also, don’t underestimate Bergman’s Persona]

The glance to the side.

It’s not Jimmy Stewart.

It’s Thomasin.

Allusions to The Way of the Dragon and The Lady from Shanghai in the mirrors.

Sure, a bit of Pulp Fiction.

But that’s just for the kids.

Edgar Wright’s grasp of cinema history is way deeper than some Tarantino bullshit.

And yet, he likes zombies.

And shitty horror films from the ’80s.

I mean REALLY shitty, camp ones.

Slasher films.

Back to Vertigo.

Kim Novak’s apartment is bathed in green neon.

But Thomasin’s bedsit is a red, white, and blue homage to Godard.

An homage to Une Femme est une femme.

Dancing.

Dancing girls.

Prostitutes.

Vivre sa vie.

Pink dress fembot.

Pew pew.

Thomasin is way sexier than Anya Taylor-Joy.

Thomasin is the girl next door.

The frumpy hair of Homeless to Harvard.

I love it.

It must be this way.

To juxtapose the transition to Swinging Sixties glamour.

Is Trump just culture jamming with his vaccine tack?

Either that, or the hero has become the villain.

Did the D.C. swamp make Trump into a swamp zombie?

Maybe no one comes out clean.

International law was broken.

War crimes.

All these Wright films have zombies.

Or robots.

Faceless automatons.

A bit of Dragon Tattoo.

We all like a good microfiche scene!

Is Terence Stamp her father?

If Sandie is her mother?

Could be.

Otherwise, she would be the daughter of a prick.

But Stamp tried to save Sandie.

Arsenic and old lace.

The ones you never suspect.

Sicario.

“Buried” in the walls.

Decomposing.

Poe.

Gacy.

Wright’s “sympathy for the serial killer”.

What happened to these people that made them monsters?

Don’t underestimate Truffaut’s Fahrenheit 451 (his only English-language film…and a flat-out masterpiece).

In the world of Edgar Wright, it is records.

Vinyl.

Not books.

And sometimes the elderly want to die with their memories.

They are not going anywhere.

They are not fleeing.

It’s been a good life.

Going down with the ship.

Up in flames.

The shitbags want their deaths avenged.

After all, they were just horny, well-to-do dads who needed a little excitement.

Prostitution.

It’s the law, after all.

Murder is murder.

Crimes of passion.

By reason of insanity.

Not guilty.

Not insane.

But traumatized.

But Thomasin has been on the adventure.

She knows what Sandie has been through.

Trump was abused for four years.

That is true.

And he fought like a champ.

Is there no justice?

Is it culture jamming (I ask again)?

Confusion.

Keeping his enemies off balance.

Getting a foot in the door.

Truth Social will censor “hate speech” with a Silicon Valley AI bot.

In order to get on Apple App Store and Google Play.

But the roll out is delayed?

Lie about the vaccines.

“Safe and effective”.

Move in for the kill shot.

Against whom?

Big Pharma and the New World Order.

But we have to call out serial killers for who they are.

If you are saying the COVID vaccines are “safe and effective”, you are spreading misinformation that is endangering the lives of those who hear and trust you.

CDC:  11,879

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Open VAERS:  23,149

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Neither safe,

https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/vaccines/safety/adverse-events.html

https://openvaers.com/covid-data/mortality

nor effective.

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/us-covid-deaths-2021-vaccines-b1963790.html

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10,000-20,000 vaccine deaths should be read as 100,000-200,000 vaccine deaths because of this:

https://www.bmj.com/rapid-response/2011/11/02/underreporting-vaccine-adverse-events

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And correlation does not necessarily equal causation…unless this (peep the myocarditis…you think that’s all JnJ? [nigga please!]):

https://openvaers.com/covid-data

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But the election was stolen.

Or was it allowed to be stolen?

When will the other shoe drop?

Or does the other shoe even exist?

This charade is going to go on until 2024?

Maybe Sandie is not her mother.

-PD

The Last Wave [1977)

Australia has fallen.

To what?

To whom?

Illuminati backwards.

Itanimulli.

Dot com.

Redirects to nsa.gov.

Check it yourself.

itanimulli.com

itanimulli.net has been removed.

But it too redirected to nsa.gov

But the real kicker is itanimulli.org

Which redirects to minervallux.com

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Minerva?

Owl?

The landing page is a golden owl.

At the bottom of the page are the years:

2016 2017 2018 2019 2020 2021.

Hitting 2016 redirects you to dc24.minervallux.com

There is a pyramid with an all-seeing eye and five blank spaces which each say “enter code”.

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Four icons on this screen open up.

First is the number 8 with the downward slash through the top loop.

It opens as:

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Next is the pyramid with the all-seeing eye.

It opens as:

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Next is the pixel palette.

It opens as:

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And finally is the right-facing arrow.

It opens as:

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Tracing our steps back to 2017.

Clicking that number leads to dc.25.minervallux.com

And this image:

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Clicking the DNA-strand brick at bottom right opens this:

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Moving left, the next brick opens as:

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Continuing to move left and clicking on the keystone:

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The final stone at left on the bottom row opens as:

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Moving up a row (and back to the right), we find this upon opening:

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Continuing to move left on this row we find:

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All the way to the left, we find this:

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Moving up a row (and staring at the right):

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Moving left:

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But clicking on the all-seeing eye reveals nothing.  It does not open out into a new window.

It should be noted that you can “register” for whatever the fuck (a game?) this site is.

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Clicking on “privacy terms” does nothing.

There is also a “login” screen:

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This whole thing reminds me a bit of Comet Ping Pong.

Wasn’t there some login capability there?

But this is WAY MORE Cicada 3301.

The years of the Trump Presidency.

Plus one.

The pyramid rotates.

It appears to have four sides.

Applying same method to pop out screens:

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Some blocks are repeated.  Including only originals gleaned from rotating pyramid:

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Moving to the third side of the pyramid:

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The lock stone simply reads:

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Cryptography.

Cryptology.

Ciphers.

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It’s looking like 2017 is way more interesting (complex) than 2016.

Q started 2017.

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A piece of parchment.

Some gold dust on a drill bit.

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On closer examination, the “privacy terms” tab does open with a notice regarding reCAPTCHA.

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BTW…the address should be read as Minerval Lux (apparently).

This whole thing has the feel of the Kryptos statue at CIA headquarters.

2018

dc26.minervallux.com

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Same method:

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https://open.spotify.com/album/0dq2zPvB0tKDh9zvL5G7Xb?si=GeWK6jaUSnK_mkUreUiRZw&nd=1

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By this point you’re probably asking, “What the fuck is all this shit?”

We need some context.

We need to keep in mind Pieczenik’s statements about CYBERCOM and Space Force.

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There’s a crack in the pyramid.  All fractals appear to be the same (requesting 17 code).  One block blank (black) requesting 0 code.

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How does Finnegans Wake help?

How does Histoire(s) du cinéma help?

How does Das Passagen-Werk help?

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Do we have it all?

Are patriots in control?

Can anything stop what is coming?

What is coming?

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NSA in Australia.

Alice Springs.

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Quarantine camps.

Q camps in Songbird.

Excellent film.

And Contagion.

Essential viewing to decode plandemic.

Emhoff.

Sussmann.

2019

Event 201.

Which Q posts indicate that Q group knew 2020 election was going to be stolen and/or that a virus was about to be unleashed?

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Clicking delta middle left:

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Apparently all the same in the middle.

Rotating outer ring:

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Gordian knot.

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Rotating inner ring.  No combinatory permutations?

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Hag.

Fascism.

[lovely]

Goldsworthy with the leaves.

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Thomas Drake?

Raitlin’s challenge.

DEFCON.

2020

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Are you tired of this shit yet?

https://t.me/deathwishpauly

2021

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Who dares wins.

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Thick fuck?

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One goes to NSA. itanimulli.com 

The other recruits (?) for CYBERCOM? itanimulli.org

This redirect has been going on since 2012?

[same year Illuminati Party LLC was established?]

When did the admirals and generals get together and decide to NOT stage a coup on Obama but (rather) get behind Trump?

Some say it’s all a hoax:

https://itanimullihoax.wordpress.com/

You know what else is in Utah?

The Utah Data Center.

https://open.spotify.com/track/1fbmO0UUzEwPrgXEfdjPqo?si=crGF2Ec0R-WMu3HKTiszxQ&nd=1

-PD

MZFPK [2021)

Breakfast cereal video game.

Pauly Deathwish’s 3rd album.

I am behind.

I can’t keep up with this guy.

Out of the gates like Flaming Lips.

30,000 feel of despair.

The gash.

Right into Isao Tomita.

Doing Debussy.

Marching.

Martial.

Fantastic noises.

Like first Stereolab album.

Here Come the Warm Jets.

Cheyenne Mountain jams.

I can no longer see what I’m typing.

  • What if I type in white?  Ahh, yes.  That does the trick.  But it ruins my style.  Louis-Ferdinand would not be happy.  Totally Air.  Pocket Symphony.  Who is Kevin?  Shields?  Ayers?  Fairlight.  Synth clouds.  Rich chords.  Very sophisticated harmonies and arrangements.  Cornelius from Japan.  This sounds very modern.  OH FUCK!  Groove is in the motherfucking heart.  Vogue!  So on track two, we are straight up on a catwalk.  But it could be Alan Vega or Martin Rev.  Kinda Sun City Girls.  Zoviet France.  Fridmann never gets this crazy with bass.  Wayne is driving it weirder.  This was, from what I hear, done with ZERO budget.  Is this a dance album?  First you have poetry.  Then you are prose.  Amateurs.  Into Odelay.  That was a good drum break.  The Strokes.  Fuzzy vocals.  Paliament/Funkadelic.  Sly Stone!  Later Stereolab.  Tim Gane processing.  Counter melody!  For fuck’s sake.  Somebody listen to this bloke.  Whoa.  What is up with this chorus?  Roland Kirk?  Like in Switzerland?  Definitely hitting some Os Mutantes twee.  Lo-fi as fuck.  Great Godard tongue in cheek.  Apparently about Neil Young and Rick James being in a band together when they were young and still in Canada.  Yonge Street?  Beats.  Drake needs to hear this.  Bit crusher lisp.  Spiritualized at the grocery store.  Swipe barcode.  Song peaks at end.  Masterful mix.  A true climax.  Savage mastering on every album.  Whole mix jumps.  It works.  Needle skipping.  American Supreme.  Claustrophobic.  COVID.  Sad.  Scared.  Apocalyptic.  The concept of the gaze in cinema.  Bass drops in.  Feel it in your sex organs.  A sexy song.  “Cobra Strike”.  This is unequivocally a dance album.  EDM all up in here.  Lots of panning.  Spliff it.  Micro gestures.  Pandemic planning.  How long will it last?  Soul-crushing.  Zombie metaphor.  Shaun of the Dead.  Masterpiece.  Beatle drums.  First Velvets album.  Rat trails.  “Black Angel’s Death Song”.  “The New Pollution”.  Dr. No.  Walther PPK.  What does this kid know?  He can’t possibly know, can he?  Pure phase.  Visconti.  Lanois.  Acid jazz.  Nick Cave.  Montage, mon beau souci.  Flaming Lips.  Jeff Tweedy drawl.  Jesus and Mary Chain team up with The Cure.  Disintegration.  Heartbreak here.  Who broke his heart?  Bleeps and bloops.  Robot noises.  Heartbeeps.  Jazz funk ’70s experimental upright.  Great lyrics.  Superimposition.  Steenbeck!  Fucking great lyrics on “Snip Snip”.  Oh, damn.  Glockenspiel at just the right time!  Icy.  Air.  Virgin suicides.  Dazed and confused.  Blonde.  Braids.  Like glazed bread.  German.  Texas.  Floating world.  Old world.  No one to smoke a doobie with and stare up at green trees.  No tits.  What is wrong with this world?  Rambo.  Fort Bragg.  Delta.  Boykin.  Intelligence Support Activity.  Send me.  George Crumb.  Black angels.  Jungle echoes.  4thPOG.  Ghosts.  PSYWAR op.  Make it loud.  Romeo foxtrot.  Shall we dance?  Charlie don’t surf.  Death on the dance floor.  Public Image Ltd.  Modes of limited transposition.  Messiaen.  Primal Scream.  Standing with Johnny Rotten.  #Trump2021 .  But this is more about big tits.  Giant opals.  Garth Hudson.  Telegraph.  Total loss.  Persona non grata.  Window still missing.  Swastika eyes.  Paul Weller.  XTRMNTR.  Shoot speed.  Kill light.  Eyes owned 2020.  The ugly had a chance.  Masks work…if you’re ugly and need to get laid.  Back with another block rocking’ beat.  Private psychedelic reel.  War metaphor.  Is this about election?  No.  Too early.  Look at liner notes.  Living in COVID times was like a world war.  War just beginning?  Got my pina colada.  Fuck it!  Arizona.  Living boldly.  Masks have lost.  Two weeks.  Could have been a contender.  Circuit bending.  Talking about big titty schizophrenic.  All footwork ruined.  Toys.  Falling apart gremlin workmanship.  Awkward line about Thora Birch.  Explicit warnings a little lazy.  Getting a bit Lenny Bruce up in here.  Russ Meyer.  Second line.  Double time.  Crazy drums.  Smooth as Sade.  Tambourine is the star.   One organic element.  Wrote a song.  She didn’t care.  Wrote her 200 songs.  She didn’t care.  One has zero plays globally.  She never bothered listening to it.  Some things not meant to be.  Liberals and conservatives.  Go and create.  Lobster.  Work wasn’t.  Bought her every flower imaginable.  Thousands of dollars on flowers.  Yoshimi laser warfare.  A piano not standard.  Some Tori Amos bullshit.  Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli.  Only the finest pianos.  Internationally famous.  Neither deserve it.  Pulled the plug at the wrong time.  Would he have still kept the same track listing?  Maybe so.  Heartbreak to rehash.  Goes by quick.  Good drum programming.  James Bond future theme.  Brian Wilson.  Phil Spector.  Absolute Nigel Godrich.  Cinematic.  The album that never was.  But this one is worldwide, motherfuckers.  Third this summer.  And a fourth already out.  I can hardly keep up.  I need to review movies.  Doesn’t Pauly Deathwish know I don’t have time for Galaga?  Falling apart.  Short-circuit.  Charlotte Gainsbourg.  Flashback to Bucolic.  
  • -PD

Spaced [1999-2001)

Very long time away.

Simon Pegg.

Let’s talk about how great Jessica Hynes (Stevenson) was (is).

As Daisy.

What a great show!

And directed by Edgar Wright.

All those movies in TV form.

Not mature creation, but fascinating to see where the great talent came from.

Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, The World’s End.

You know what I mean.

I came to fall in love with Daisy Steiner.

Ah, the comfort of television!

And Julia Deakin as Marsha the landlady.

Makes you feel at home.

This series.

Surrogate friends.

And Mark Heap is very underrated.

[we’ll be getting to him in Miranda]

British TV.

Once the bug has bitten you, it is difficult to retreat.

Also a good bit of Nick Frost here.

Lots of alcohol.

David Walliams as Vulva.

Serafinowicz.

Michael Smiley is also so underrated here!

Wot?!?

 

-PD

Kill Me Three Times [2014)

Mediocre film.

For those keeping score at home, let me fill you in.

Simon Pegg is perhaps the most talented actor working these days.

Here’s the films of his which I know to be masterpieces:

Shaun of the Dead

Hot Fuzz

The World’s End

Yes, that’s right:  the Three Flavours Cornetto trilogy.

It really is that good.

One might not think such possible.

But it is the case.

Close, but not quite up to that level is:

Paul

Another notch down (though it is very inventive):

A Fantastic Fear of Everything

In some ways, I want to put those last two I mentioned on the same level, but Paul features Nick Frost as well.  It’s just too hard to beat.

All said, that’s FIVE essential films starring one actor.

Granted, Frost is in four of those.

Which brings us to this “other” part of Pegg’s oeuvre.

A Fantastic Fear of Everything proves that Pegg can do it without Frost, but there are some bone fide clunkers in Pegg’s oeuvre as well.

Terminal is mediocre.

Worth watching, but mediocre.

And, sadly, I would say the same about Kill Me Three Times.

On a positive note, Pegg is MUCH better in this film than he is in Terminal.

Mostly it’s because he’s allowed to act.

Allowed to bask in the spotlight.

But Kill Me Three Times has many problems (which take away from Pegg’s performance).

Let’s break it down.

The Oldsmobile Toronado with Western Australia plates is a nice touch.

Metallic puke green.

And Pegg with a nice Grinderman ‘stache.

You might be ahead of me.

Indeed, one of the problems from which Kill Me Three Times suffers is an over-adoration of Quentin Tarantino.

The mustachioed hitman is by now a trite trope.

There can be only one Pulp Fiction.

[itself merely a good (not great) movie]

While the story is not entirely original, I would like to congratulate writer James McFarland for doing what director Kriv Stenders did not:

create art.

There is some art (not much) in McFarland’s script.

Conversely, there is no art in Stender’s film.

No thought.

No inspiration.

[and, one would think by looking at it, no cinematographer]

A very uninspired directorial effort.

Now.

You might be wondering why I am so bitter.

BECAUSE I BOUGHT THIS MOVIE!

I don’t have the money to throw away on such a piece of shit.

That, and it’s an affront to those of us who create in spite of severe monetary limitations.

Perhaps the only inspired shots involve the security camera footage in the microwave on the pizza setting.

A good bit, that.

Good special effects here.

Realistic-looking deaths abound.

The ending is good.

Kinda funny.

In an Aussie way.

It’s a shame this film couldn’t have been made better.

The script was fine.

The actors were plenty talented.

It is just such a BLAND mise-en-scène.

Luke Hemsworth is pretty good here.

But the only thing that kept this watchable (aside from Pegg) is Teresa Palmer.

I thought director Stenders might deliver a truly-artful moment…finally…at the end…in the shower scene.

I was wrong.

 

-PD

Burke and Hare [2010)

Bad movie.

Very bad.

Scotland.

Pegg bad accent.

William Burke.

William Hare.

Murderers.

This film is about as painful.

Would imagine.

Murdering cinema.

A crime!

Maybe not bad accent.

Irish.

In Scotland.

Boring…

Jessica Hynes.

“SHAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!!!”

auauauauauauauaua

She’s alright.

Bad editing.

Bad writing.

BAD direction from good John Landis!!!

Bad acting from great Simon Pegg!

Isla Fisher.

Not bad.

Sacha Baron Cohen’s wife.

aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiight!

Ugh, Macbeth.

All-female version.

Edinburgh.

Great on paper–shite on film!

 

-PD

A Fantastic Fear of Everything [2012)

I found this one difficult to watch.

Multiple attempts.

I’m still alive.

Lon-don.

Tell them I’ll call them back.

Hackney.

Hacked.

Hanoi.

Humbert Humbert.

This is a rather inventive film.

Insular.

Wrapped up in web mind.

Cobwebs.

Webby.

Super glues a knife to his hand!

For fuck’s sake!!!

That’s when it started to get good.

But God knows how long it took me to survive the punishing beginning.

Boredom.

My Beautiful Laundrette.

[sic]

Working Title Films.

Jackpot!

Bean, Lebowski, Ali G., Johnny English, Shaun, Fuzz, Paul, World’s End, Grimsby, Saoirse Scots…

These are my films.

The auteurs of comedy.

Bona fide.

The twins.

And the muse.

My journey through addiction.

Knowing you’re an addict.

And not a patient on medicine.

Step 1.

Can I recapture?

Which way?

What???

Scissorhand.

Shatterhand.

Forgot the soap.

An opera.

Slow-motion underwear.

Soiled with blood.

Dust.

Attic.

Beautiful curry.

Had burned off the hair on one side of his head.

Scrotum.

FaTE.

Very much like lovely bones.

Hatch.

Soft bulletin.

Swung open.

Brochure.

Kiss to remove my gag.

Little ‘Nam.

Indeed.

Martin Rev suicides the wrap arounds from Wal-Mart.

Blinking LEDs chasing across the brow.

Creepy as fuck!

But bathos.

Bathetic.

Maudlin.

Yet in the mold of Frank Giustra (suing Twitter for comments I and others made).

Free speech, mate.

Yes, you have a psychopathic vibe.

It is my human right to state so.

Fuck Canada!

Hackneyed serial killer.

Trite.

Headbutt dog and duck.

Scotch egg.

1001 nights…

The star here (besides our subject of study, Simon Pegg) is the beautiful Amara Karan.

Breathtaking!

Sri Lanka.

Bikini.

Atoll.

Darjeeling.

Investment banker (!):  M&As.

Get the fuck out!

Oxford,

not a terminal degree, but quite academic for iTunes fare.

Pegg’s least-purchased movie (it appears).

But really a fine job by Crispian Mills (Kula Shaker, wot?!?) and Chris Hopewell.

 

-PD

The World’s End [2013)

Simon Pegg is a genius.

And so is Nick Frost.

So I must start secondly by saying, “Disregard my reviews of Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz.

I didn’t get it.

The style.

You must read an auteur in their language.

If the language is unintelligible, you can’t read them.

Now I get it [marginally].

And I love it.

This film is a masterpiece.

A deeply-flawed masterpiece (in the grand scheme of things).

But these two blokes come shining through.

Pegg and Frost.

I first encountered them in the film Paul.

I really liked them.

That film is much less of the gore.

Not part of the “Cornetto trilogy” (yes, the ice-cream cone).

But I would encourage all who can to grab a box of Drumsticks (if Cornettos be not available) and delve into this oeuvre.

I almost didn’t make it through The World’s End.

I had almost had my fill of this “comedy horror”.

But the dialogue did it.

Specifically, the scene where Pegg get the “lamp” to fuck off.

Brilliant dialogue.

These films are just funny as fuck.

And the characters are lovable.

Pegg and Frost have a great chemistry.

You know, there have been several times in my life where I’ve encountered a creation that I at first hated, and then subsequently went on to love.

One was the first Grinderman album.

It was so hyped.

Overhyped.

There’s no way it could live up to the critical accolades that I had been smothered with before hearing it.

I made it a few tracks in and gave up.

Overrated.

Waste of money.

But then I came back to it.

Gave it a second chance.

And it blossomed.

It spoke to me.

And so I would like to thank Simon Pegg and Nick Frost (and director Edgar Wright) for making such enduring creations (though they be in the guise of vacuous shite).

It takes a lot of courage to foist upon the world something as bold as the Three Flavours Cornetto trilogy.

I am glad I “got it” before I chunked the whole thing in the dustbin.

Just barely.

 

-PD