I’m glad this wasn’t a real movie. When a self-propelled filmmaker inadvertently captures the idiosyncrasies of a community in lieu of producing an actual “film,” we, the audience, are witness to…
All Posts By
Joseph A. Ziemba
-
-
At age twenty, The Kinks’ “I’m On An Island” was my defining mid-60s jam. The song bookended a 90 minute “KOOL KINKS” Maxell mixtape that I made, and I even recorded…
-
Bigfoot has always been an excessive person. In The Capture of Bigfoot, he threw a snowmobile at someone’s head. In Night of the Demon, he removed a man’s penis and threw…
-
Let’s get dark. You know what’s great about Canadian ultra-obscurities? They’re always dependable. Whether setting out to mine luscious delirium (Things), debilitating gloom (Deadline), or concentrated shittiness (Survival 1990), our Great…
-
Q: Why do winos house their booze bottles in brown paper bags? A: Because they don’t want to see the end coming. That pretty much says it all. Prior to a…
-
Life. Art. Olivia Newton-John. Over the past 4- years, the insurgence of vintage “found” media as a mostly poignant, sometimes hilarious document of society’s fringes has become inescapable. And much appreciated.…
-
Satan has developed a social conscience. It’s called “sex.” When it comes to the devil and sexuality, the line between reality and fantasy is often clear. For instance, we all know…
-
Chuck Watts just made love to a gorgeous prostitute. While gingerly buttoning his pants, she glares at him and says, “When you make love, it’s like going to the toilet.” Hiya,…
-
In the film Roseland, director Fredric Hobbs stated, “You cannot fart around with love.” He was right. That’s why I love him. Don’t get me wrong. I’d never, ever recommend a…
-
Twenty minutes down. I thought, “A gay biker film that shoots it far too straight. Go figure.” But that was before I experienced the ending. With the release of The Psychopath…
-
I’ve been immersed in Wendy Carlos’s Switched On Bach for the past three weeks. With each listen, I get further away from understanding how someone could actualize a work that defies…
-
It is difficult to argue with a man who makes love to toy dolls. So why try? By 1968, director-writer-unknowing-sage Doris Wishman was onto something big. So big, in fact, that…
-
The old folks have taken over the asylum. High-fives to the old folks. Mental hospitals are The Best, especially when it comes to slasher films. Grandmas are The Best, especially when…
-
T.G.I.F.? The elementary understanding of The Cat Scream was to be demolished in the wake of Ferd and Beverly Sebastian’s Rocktober Blood. For in that film, this badge of machismo gallantry…
-
The Abomination made all things desolate. As it turns out, desolation can be a pretty captivating place. In 1986, writer-director Bret McCormick and partner-director Matt Devlen ensconced a Super 8 camera,…
-
I’ve never been sold on the concept of destiny. Until now. Sometime during the first half of the twentieth century, identical twins David and Robert Story were born. Unexceptional on the…
-
Our setting: the unkempt office of Dr. T. Honest Truth, traveler, lecturer, amateur comedian, and world-renowned psychoanalyst. A bust of W.C. Fields leers over his desk, while the requisite chaise lounge…
-
In a fury, I called Sande Romine’s Restaurant, the local greasy spoon. My craving for slithery-fried sleaze had to be satiated. I said, “Give me the daily special. Delivery. And don’t…
-
Charles Pierce has made muddy footprints on the back porch scary again. Beginning with 1974’s untouchable The Legend Of Boggy Creek, continuing with 1976’s marred masterwork The Town That Dreaded Sundown,…
-
“Odd. I feel odd.” Denise is on my wavelength. Speaking of wavelengths, Sole Survivor is into something. Something good. However, articulating that goodness doesn’t come easy. Yet, as we all know,…