Now we lucked out and received the film from Netflix over a week ago, ensuring us plenty of time to screen the film and review it. Both Anna and I were looking forward to the film, and the DVD certainly had us intrigued, what with an image of a cow’s tongue inching along as if it was a worm for the cover art. Then, when the film opened with a disclaimer that the film would disgust and revile all those who watched it, our interests was definitely piqued. But something funny happened on the way to the film’s ending, it didn’t disgust us, it bored us.

Now I think I am pretty good at figuring out an individual film’s meaning, be they covert or overt, but Sílení simply left me scratching my head at its continual bizarre and inane flights of fancy. The film opens with what appears to be a fever dream of a man being terrorized by orderlies from an insane asylum, when in fact he is merely hallucinating. As a crowd gathers to watch, an elderly Marquis (Jan Triska) appears and shoos off the onlookers, much to the satisfaction of the young man.

The following morning the young man, Jean Berlot (Pavel Liska), approaches the Marquis at breakfast to thank him and the two quickly strike up a kinship. The Marquis offers to give Jean a ride to hi next destination and they quickly board the Marquis’ horse drawn carriage and head across the country side. It is about this time that I begin to notice that the Marquis is dressed in noticeably eclectic attire, and his stage coach and driver also appear as if they had been transported out of the 1700’s. I even began to question just when the film was set until I saw a car driving down the road past the coach, but that would end up being the last bit of normalcy I would witness.

Soon it begins to rain, quite terribly, submerging the earth under a deluge of puddles and mud, when the carriage suddenly stops and the Marquis informs Jean he can go no further. Jean departs and the Marquis slinks off into the forest, in order to play a game of hide-and-go-seek with the now sopping wet Jean who has no idea he is even playing a game. After a few seconds the carriage manages to sneak up on Jean (how that is possible I don’t know) and startles our intrepid, seemingly deaf, hero.

The Marquis then apologizes for this cruel joke and escorts Jean back to the Marquis’ home, where he tells Jean to settle down for the evening. Jean acquiesces, only to be awoken during the night by the arrival of another carriage carrying seven passengers, one of them in irons. Jean follows them where he discovers the Marquis is holding some sort of bizarre ceremony, involving ingesting enormous pieces of chocolate cake in a manner that is meant to convey the cake is really made up of bodily waste, bizarre sexual rituals, and the Marquis nailing a crucifix, quite literally. And of course these scenes are all broken apart by short stop-motion vignettes of meat crawling around the countryside.

At this point we checked the timer and saw we were merely a half hour in to this visual acid trip, and with an hour and a half still to go neither of us felt the slightest bit of interest in the film. The film was so content with being obtuse that it was incapable of generating even the slightest bit of interest, let alone reveal even the tiniest bit of plot. The inmates were running this asylum and neither Anna nor I felt up to dealing with their antics, thus we moved on to hopefully greener pastures. Of course the next pasture was Gossip, which surprisingly shared a similar bit of problems with Sílení, that of being high on visual concept, aching low on plot.

Gossip is the tale of three roommates. Travis (Norman Reedus), the stereotypical brilliant starving artist. Jones (Lena Headey), the bleeding heart, and Derrick (James Marsden) the spoiled trust fund baby who finances their every wish and scheme. After Derrick witnesses a rather boring private event between fellow blue bloods Naomi (Kate Hudson) and Beau (Joshua Jackson) at a party, the three deviant roommates decide for their sociology project to start a rumor and track its every movement and incarnation as it shifts from one student to the next. Only when the rumor begins to take a decidedly evil turn, it soon becomes apparent that the motive for this whole exercise may not have been as innocent as it originally appeared.

The plot for Gossip initially appears to be quite simple, and as result screenwriter Gregory Poirier (Tomcats) pulls out all manner of twists and turns and false starts and pseudo endings in an attempt to keep the viewer off balance. This works fairly effectively early in the film, as the viewer is still unaware of just what is to come, but as the story is continually painted into a corner each reversal causes the plot to become more hair brained and less feasible with every passing frame. Plot points and reveals exists simply to further to push the story forward and are aching lacking in plausibility, resulting in a chaotic mess of a story by the time it finally runs out of breath.

Not helping matters are the wafer thin stock characters that seemingly grow denser by the second. Surprisingly enough the normally dreadfully stiff Marsden actually pulls off a decent performance as the despicable womanizing Derrick, a spoiled brat of a man who freely admits he uses people yet his friends still hang out with him because he pays for their enormous flat, an eternally stocked wet bar, and the head scratching interior decorating that is impossible to miss. A blue fridge in a yellow kitchen? Who’s idea was that and can you get your money back?

But while Derrick at least admits he’s a liar, gossip and a womanizer, it is Jones who somehow decides to bring up her righteous indignation at his actions whenever it pleases her. Oh sure, she hates rich people, so long as they won’t freely allow her to be a parasite. If their ever was a worse characterization of a woman in a film, I haven’t seen it. Though I am almost certain Jones is the hero of this tragedy. Also, be sure to watch out for her in the dumbest, most ridiculous and implausible sex scene this side of Sílení.

But while thinking will certainly hamper this viewing experience, the film truly does look incredible. Director Davis Guggenheim (An Inconvenient Truth) is clearly showing off his eye for artistic shots and gaudy colors. The camera swirls around from scene to scene, creating a stunning visual wake as it transforms simple staircases into lush Escher landscapes and every doorway an entrance to another galaxy. And the colors, oh the colors. Sure the lighting doesn’t make any sense (it isn’t hard to see the influence producers Joel Schumacher and Jeffrey Silver had on the production) with its green lit rooms, or the blue rainstorms or anything else for that matter, but man if it doesn’t make each frame pop.

If only that much care and innovation was spent on the script Gossip might have transcended trash and might actually have begun to resemble art. But while Gossip never rose above the mediocre goals that it set for itself, it at least managed to hit the mark it was aiming for, while Sílení set the bar quite high and fell painfully short. But who is to say which is more worth your time? All though I would argue that neither are.

So I found out early yesterday afternoon that my theatrical pick this week, Fears of the Dark, was dropped from the release schedule. According to our buyer the film might still be released in December, but for now it is totally off the booking sheet, which is an ominous sign.

Evidently the film simply didn’t do very well in other markets (ie New York and Los Angeles) so the decision was made to ax the film instead of releasing it. This in spite of the heavy promotion it has received at all three Landmark Theatres (The Uptown, Lagoon and The Edina) over the past few months. It is pretty rare that a film that has been this heavily invested in by our company will be so unceremoniously dropped. It has happened before, but Fears of the Dark is the first one that I can recall that was dropped after being promoted at all three theatres.

But what really got my goat was when I discovered what Fears of the Dark was being replaced with at The Lagoon, that being Quantum of Solace. Now the decision to play Quantum of Solace at The Lagoon had been made several months ago, and one that has plenty of regulars irked ever since Landmark decided to have both The Dark Knight and Mamma Mia play on two screens this past summer.

Now The Dark Knight is at least defensible, as it made massive amounts of money all across the land and The Lagoon was relatively slow at the time, but Mamma Mia? But bunlike the rest of the world, both ended up doing rather mediocre business at The Lagoon, even the vaunted Dark Knight, and early signs are that Quantum of Solace won’t meet expectations either.

But what is most frustrating, is that Quantum of Solace is on two screens. That means the largest theatre chain in the US that is dedicated to Independent film simply dropped a foreign Independent film for a second screen of the massively mainstream James Bond. It was strictly financial decision, and one that had already backfired at this location in the past, to ax a film that had been garnering decent buzz from their regular clientel just so they could possibly draw in crowds for a film that is decidedly different from the rest of their yearly fare.

Do the expect those customers who come to see Quantum of Solace to return for other films?

Do they expect their regulars to be excited about losing an impressive looking Independent film just so Quantum of Solace can be shown every hour?

I know what my decision is. I won’t be watching Quantum of Solace. Not at The Lagoon, or anywhere else for that matter.

And if anyone else is as bothered by this as I am, feel free to visit landmarktheatres.com and let them know what you think.

I dare you.

If you are a cinema fan, this is Christmas come early. 40% off everything until November 24th. Mugs, poster, t-shirts, crappy copies of Michael Bay movies that no one will ever buy and even some great movies as well.

Now the only question is just how much will I buy. Hmm…

Tobias Funke - Fire Sale (actual version)

Really awful fake version

As for theatrical releases, that was yet another easy choice. While I have mild interest in the latest Bond film, and The Boy in the Striped Pajamas might be interesting, my choice is a film I recommended several weeks ago, as it is finally getting released here in Minneapolis. Fears of the Dark is now playing at the Lagoon Cinema, and most likely only for a one week run, so please get out and see this film while you have the chance.

As always trailers are after the break!

Encounters at the End of the World trailer

Fears of the Dark trailer

Not only will I discuss the stories - all of which I consider to be classics - but I’ve provided links for you to read the stories yourself. When does Matt give you such a plethora of free entertainment? Never, I say!

Let’s get started, shall we?

Herman Melville’s “Bartleby the Scrivener”

I had a high school teacher who pretty much killed any interest I would have with Herman Melville because of his insistence of teaching Moby Dick with a heavy emphasis on the religious aspects of the novel. For years after that, just the mention of Melville left a sour taste in my mouth; that is, until I attended university and someone handed me a copy of “Bartleby the Scrivener”. From that day on, I’ve become a huge defender of Melville’s work, and I’m continually amazed that high school teachers continue to teach the bulky Moby Dick over the breezy “Bartleby”. Let’s be honest, teenagers have a hard time relating with a revenge-obsessed captain, and I’m willing to bet they’d love to read about a man who simply “prefers not to”.

To put it simply, Melville’s “Bartleby the Scrivener” is one of the best American short stories ever written. By modern standards, the story tends to be a bit dry, and the beginning takes the long way of getting to the point, but I’d argue that it’s part of the story’s charm. And to be fair, it’s necessary for the story’s effectiveness. The nameless narrator, who so proudly admits that the easiest way in life is the best, the boss of two men whose peculiar habits (one works best in the morning and not in the afternoon, and the other vice-versa) mean they essentially function as one worker, hires the title character to be his scrivener. Unfortunately, after a brief productive period, Bartleby doesn’t want to do the job anymore. In fact, he would “prefer not to” do anything. And to make matters worse, Bartleby won’t leave the office:

     “Bartleby,” said I, “are you aware that you are the cause of great tribulation to me, by persisting in occupying the entry after being dismissed from the office?”

     No answer.

     “Now one of two things must take place. Either you must do something, or something must be done to you. Now what sort of business would you like to engage in? Would you like to re-engage in copying for some one?”

     “No; I would prefer not to make any change.”

     “Would you like a clerkship in a dry-goods store?”

     “There is too much confinement about that. No, I would not like a clerkship; but I am not particular.”

     “Too much confinement,” I cried, “why you keep yourself confined all the time!”

     “I would prefer not to take a clerkship,” he rejoined, as if to settle that little item at once.

     “How would a bar-tender’s business suit you? There is no trying of the eyesight in that.”

     “I would not like it at all; though, as I said before, I am not particular.”

From there, the narrator discovers that Bartleby’s refusal to work is only a preview to a much bigger problem. And depending on how you take the story, what follows next is either a trip into absurdity or a tragedy of epic proportions.

“Bartleby the Scrivener”, at its heart, is a suicide story. Now, I subscribe to a metafictional view of the story, largely amounting to the sad reality that Melville had to publish this story anonymously in 1853 in light of Moby Dick’s critical failure (one that had the press going so far as to question Melville’s sanity). But the story wallows in existentialism, helps plant the seeds to what will eventually be Absurdism, and clearly provides inspiration to later writers, most notably Franz Kafka, who will take an evolved Bartleby and put him on trial and turn him into a bug, among other things. 

If you are one of those people who is at a loss to why Melville is so well respected, please understand that this is the Herman Melville readers love, the man who destroyed his literary career in his own lifetime in an attempt to earn the respect (and possibly the love) of Nathaniel Hawthorne. Because in the end, Melville preferred not to take the easy path, and the world is honestly a better place because of it.

Prefer to read the story right here.

Joyce Carol Oates’ “Where are you going? Where have you been?”

If I had been thinking properly, I would have included this Joyce Carol Oates story in my last column. While generally not considered a horror story, the story of 15 year old Connie who is home alone when two men arrive to take her away is genuinely chilling. Since Connie recognizes one of the men, the initial encounter feels pretty harmless, but things go from good to bad fairly quickly as the man she recognizes, Arnold Friend, tries to get her to come outside of her house:

     “Honey—? Listen, here’s how it is. I always tell the truth and I promise you this: I ain’t coming in that house after you.”

     “You better not! I’m going to call the police if you—if you don’t—”

     “Honey,” he said, talking right through her voice, “honey, I m not coming in there but you are coming out here. You know why?”

     She was panting. The kitchen looked like a place she had never seen before, some room she had run inside but that wasn’t good enough, wasn’t going to help her. The kitchen window had never had a curtain, after three years, and there were dishes in the sink for her to do—probably—and if you ran your hand across the table you’d probably feel something sticky there.

     “You listening, honey? Hey?” “—going to call the police—”

     “Soon as you touch the phone I don’t need to keep my promise and can come inside. You won’t want that.”

It’s powerful stuff, and considering that the majority of the story is a conversation between Connie and Arnold Friend, it’s a testament to Oates talent for writing that the story works as effectively as it does. As the reader, you know that if Connie leaves her house with Arnold, her life – that is, if she still has one – will never be the same. When Connie asks what it is he’ll do to her, he responds: 

“Just two things, or maybe three,” Arnold Friend said. “But I promise it won’t last long and you’ll like me the way you get to like people you’re close to. You will. It’s all over for you here, so come on out.”

I won’t tell you if Connie comes out or not, I don’t want to rob you of the experience that Oates so masterfully created. But I would be remiss if I didn’t at least warn you that “Where are you going? Where have you been?” is one of those stories that will stay with you for a lot longer than you think it will.

Don’t believe me? Find out for yourself right here.

Donald Barthelme’s “The School”

Well, we had all these children out planting trees, see, because we figured that…that was part of their education, to see how you know the root systems…and also the sense of responsibility, taking care of things, being individually responsible. You know what I mean. And the trees all died. They were orange trees. I don’t know why they died, they just died. Something wrong with the soil possibly or maybe the stuff we got from the nursery wasn’t the best. We complained about it. So we’ve got thirty kids there, each kid had his or her own little tree to plant, and we’ve got these thirty dead trees. All these kids looking at these little brown sticks. It was depressing.

So begins Donald Barthelme’s short story “The School”.

The first time I heard of this story, it was read to me, and those five minutes seemed to change my life. While I have a lot of love for the short story in general, very few of them take my breath away, and “The School” was one of the first to do so. It’s hard to pinpoint why the story works so well for me, but a lot of it has to do with the choice of narrator, a teacher, who is fundamentally as lost and confused as his students are. The blurring of the line between student and teacher is a theme Barthelme would return to again and again (such as the wonderful ”Me and Miss Mandible”), but he really nails it here in less than 1,200 words.

Barthelme is one of the few American writers who really knew how to make a few words count, and ”The School” is a great example of his minimalistic style, packing in enough ideas and emotion to fuel a novella.

It’s a fantastic compressed narrative, as well as a stunning monologue. 

Sadly, since his death in 1989, Barthelme tends to be overlooked more often than not, which is a real shame.

His ability to seamlessly make the transition from drama and comedy and back again - creating an eerie balance that reflects real life - is unparalleled. Without his work, I’d argue that literature today - especially short fiction - would look very different than it does now.

Read “The School” right here. 

Raymond Carver’s “Cathedral”

Raymond Carver tends to be noted for his “everyman” characters, but I always thought that was simplifyingwhat he set out to do. I think a large part of Carver’s success is how he deftly taps into our need to be saved, for someone to enter our lives and bring us to safety.  

“Cathedral” tells the story of a man (the unnamed narrator) who reluctantly plays host to his wife’s blind friend, a man who is visiting from out of town. Initially, it seems that the man’s ignorance towards the blind is his biggest problem, and then it seems like he’s jealous, but as the story progresses, it becomes clear that these are simply excuses to keep himself isolated from others. At times awkward, and at times funny, “Cathedral” builds and builds so subtly that when the revelation comes, it’s practically orgasmic.    

In this scene, the man and the blind man are watching a documentary on building cathedrals, when the blind

 man asks the man if he could describe to him what a cathedral looks like:

     I stared some more at the cathedral before the picture flipped off into the countryside. There was no use. I turned to the blind man and said, “To begin with, they’re very tall.” I was looking around the room for clues. “They reach way up. Up and up. Toward the sky. They’re so big, some of them, they have to have these supports. To help hold them up, so to speak. These supports are called buttresses. They remind of viaducts, for some reason.  But maybe you don’t know viaducts, either? Sometimes the cathedrals have devils and such carved into the front. Sometimes lords and ladies. Don’t ask me why this is,” I said.

     He was nodding. The whole upper part of his body seemed to be moving back and forth.

     “I’m not doing so good, am I?” I said.

     He stopped nodding and leaned forward on the edge of the sofa. As he listened to me, he was running his fingers through his beard. I wasn’t getting through to him, I could see that. But he waited for me to go on just the same. He nodded, like he was trying to encourage me. I tried to think what else to say. “They’re really big,” I said. They’re massive. They’re built of stone. Marble, too, sometimes. In those olden days, when they built cathedrals, men wanted to be close to God. In those olden days, God was an important part of everyone’s life. You could tell this from their cathedral-building. I’m sorry,” I said, “but it looks like that’s the best I can do for you. I’m just no good at it.”

     “That’s all right, bub,” the blind man said. “Hey, listen. I hope you don’t mind my asking you. Can I ask you something? Let me ask you a simple question, yes or no. I’m just curious and there’s no offense. You’re my host. But let me ask if you are in any way religious? You don’t mind my asking?”

What comes next is a thing of beauty.  

What makes Carver’s work so interesting is how he has a tendency to end the story right at its climax with

no denouement. Carver’s approach to writing was to isolate the exact moment when the protagonist changes, either by epiphany or deliverance, and once this moment occurs, it doesn’t matter what happens next. In fact, when Carver does feel the need to move beyond the climax (such as “Fever”), it tends to feel a bit redundant. Thankfully, the ending of “Cathedral” is one of the greatest short story endings of all time.  

See if you agree with me right here.

This is TOO SOON.

SHAMELESS PLUG

Now, I’m not going to suggest my short stories are anywhere near the caliber of the writers I’ve just been writing about here; however, if you are interested in reading some of my work, check out issues 1 and 3 of GUD magazine.

In issue 1, you can read my report MAD DOGS, which “makes real life seem just as strange as the fictional realities depicted in the rest of the magazine.” And in issue 3, you can read COUNTING NUNS, which is “quite engaging . . . you’re bound to appreciate the humor and true-to-life inner dialogue Dumais presents.“

And if you’re interested in listening to some of my fiction, you can download the following stories:

THIS IS NOT FOR YOU

THE MARIACHI

MUTED PORN

PAYING THE TAB

Thanks. 

Mif?

Who the hell is Mif?

Well to find out, you will just have to watch next week’s film, Gossip.

Gossip Trailer

P.S. - Interesting bit of meta for those of you into that sort of thing; Poe (the singer not the writer) also appears in the film. She just so happens to be the sister of Mark Z. Danielewski (the writer not the singer) who wrote Christian’s favorite book House of Leaves. You might have heard him mention it once or twice.

P.P.S. - This site is layered like an ogre, yo!

I bet you think running this site is all fun and games. Oh sure, I have an unhealthy addiction for Mahjong that I have been trying to pass off on Anna, but that is besides the point. I don’t get to just lay around all day, watching whatever I want whenever I want. I have, like, a system. A rigorous, temperamental system.

When I first started this column it was meant to be an excuse for me to finally watch certain films I had always wanted to watch when I was younger, but for whatever reason, had simply never gotten around to doing so. But while that selfishly worked well as an initial idea, that wasn’t going to be enough to fuel a column, let alone an entire site. So thus my initial idea inevitably began to expand.

Soon I began to look for films that would push me out of my comfort zone, as well as those that would have appealed to me when I was a youth. From there it was just a hop, skip and a jump to include reviews of true independent films and hard to find foreign films as well. Finally, I began to track down movies that were out of print or simply never released in the US. And as I added on each new group of films, the list of movies I planned to watch and review grew increasingly larger and more daunting.

As of now I have well over 200 films that I have filed away to watch and that number seems to grow every week. I’m starting to get a backlog of screeners that I keep meaning to post reviews on. Anna, exasperated at watching what I want, has taken it upon herself to now find movies for us that she wants to see and is now adding them to our Netflix queue, thus adding even more films to my plate. And as my backlog keeps growing and growing, it only leaves me to wonder just where am I going to find the time for all this?

Carl (Bruce Campbell) has just been released from prison after serving five years for a crime that he didn’t commit. Now faced with a future with no job and even fewer friends, he unveils a scheme to rob a corrupt laundromat run by his former prison warden. The problem is, if he doesn’t pull this job immediately then he can never pull it. Leaving him less then one hour to set his plan in motion. But he better hurry, because the clock is ticking.

Running Time is one of the first films that I had my eye on to watch for this column. It was a relatively unknown independent film, and since it had fallen out of print DVD copies were difficult to find. As an added bonus it starred a relatively known actor (Campbell) who had a large enough following that hopefully more then a few people might find the review and then seek out the film themselves. But therein lied the problem.

Because it did star someone with a strong fan following, and coupled with the limited DVD release, it was a bit more difficult then I imagined to actually find a copy of Running Time. Not that it was all that hard, eBay typically has a copy or two floating around for sale, but since the demand outpaced the supply, Running Time is typically selling for a price that I wasn’t willing to pay (Over $25.) So I waited. Nine freaking months I waited! It was then that I finally found a copy of Running Time that was well within my preferred price range. But would it be worth the wait?

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from Running Time. I knew it was a serious crime drama, but with such a low budget and ambitious shooting style I had concerns that the film wouldn’t be able to pull this difficult balancing act off. The opening of Running Time certainly didn’t dissuade my early pessimism. The early shots focus simply on Carl being released from prison and getting well wishes from the warden and a select number of prison guards as the camera circles around them. Hardly ground breaking stuff. But as Carl is escorted out of the prison and the camera begins to stalk him, hints of something potentially special begin to emerge.

It is once Carl leaves the prison and meets up with his former partner Patrick (Jeremy Roberts) that Running Time begins to unveil its secrets. While the job is still being alluded to, let alone explained, Running Time flies past those “distractions” first for a surprising sex scene to an avalanche of obstacles for Carl and his cronies to circumnavigate at a moments notice in real time, all while the clock keeps ticking down, and the time left to pull the job quickly begins to slip away.

But while the buildup before the robbery is incredibly effective at building tension, it is when the heist finally occurs that Running Time reaches a fever pitch. With the seamless real time style the viewer is never given a chance to catch their breath, and they are dragged against their will into Running Time’s dreary and downtrodden web. Each second becomes unbearable as Carl and his cronies struggle to finish the heist with as few complications as possible, if they don’t turn on each other first.

As always Campbell steals the show, but far from how his fans have come to expect. Campbell is pitch perfect casting as the strong willed and quick witted Carl, a man serious about committing one last crime so he can finally escape yolk of the prison system forever, but equally willing to toss off a verbal barb that always seems to find its mark. This isn’t the goofy, fun-loving Campbell easily found in his most notorious and loved B-movies, this Chin is focused and driven and acting his ass off.

But the true genius of Running Time is how well the single continuous shot is integrated into the story. While it appears that Running Time is filmed in a single take, in actuality there are thirty cuts secretly strewn throughout the film. Writer/director Josh Becker (Alien Apocalypse) has done an outstanding job of writing the cuts into the framework of the story, creating a completely realistic world in which the story is able to thrive. And thrive it does.

Unlike Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope, the film to which Running Time is paying homage too, Running Time is far more adept at hiding its cuts. Whereas Hitchcock would often employ a static shot to act as a transition, the cuts were still plainly evident and could even be jarring when they occurred. But Running Time exploits the screen by using quick camera turns, or even moving objects as interference while the cuts occur. So instead of having a rather obvious jolt of a changeover, the action on screen moves seamlessly, allowing the story to dictate the pace of the film rather then the editing.

This results in a slow burn of a story as the clock keeps ticking and tensions mount. There are no cuts away from the action, and nothing to shield the audience from arguments and their fallout, and because of this each moment adds to the next. Growing and growing, as if exponentially, until the viewer knows something must happen to make everything stop, and when it does the film simply keeps on moving, forcing the audience to maintain pace with this truly thrilling roller coaster ride until its perfectly sublime end.

In theaters this week is the latest work of genius from Charlie Kaufman, Synecdoche, New York, which I’m sure will leave everyone scratching their heads while simultaneously praising it. So you know, a typical Charlie Kaufman film, only this time on a far grander scale.

As for DVD releases I had a bit more of a struggle in trying to choose which film to recommend. As you can probably imagine Hellboy II: The Golden Army was calling to me, but while I loved Hellboy II, I have instead decided to go in another direction and select a film I haven’t seen yet, and no one else has either. This particular film has taken seven years to make, and is just beginning to make a run as a midnight movie here in the US, and for those of you living in the Minneapolis metro area, you will be able to see it at The Uptown Theatre on November 22nd. It should be a great midnight show, so hopefully you will be in attendance. But for those of you who can’t wait, The Flaming Lips: Christmas on Mars will be released on DVD this Tuesday.

As always trailers are after the break!

Synecdoche, New York trailer

The Flaming Lips: Christmas on Mars trailer