Managed to watch this two-hour movie in only ninety minutes (by skipping ahead whenever a scene got boring). Mostly a dry, bad movie with an awkward, academic tone that Spike has no talent for, but with little punctuations of brilliance (and the finest opening titles since 25th Hour). The music is good anyway, often the only good thing happening.

The plot: there existed an addiction to blood. Besides being a Ganja & Hess remake, it’s a stealth Red Hook Summer sequel. Snoop from The Wire gets murdered, crazy servant Rami Malek gets killed at the very end, doctor Joie Lee is spared. In the decade since this came out, Dr. Hess (who looks like Jamie Foxx crossed with Chidi) abruptly quit acting in movies, while Ganja has at least been on British television.

“Very slow and brown” is all I wrote originally. Is there more to say? The two Jakes are married to Sarah Gadon (Antiviral) and Mélanie Laurent (Inglorious Basterds), and all that really happens from their doppel-discovery is they end up wife-swapping, then maybe one couple crashes their car and the other becomes spiders, or more likely a single Jake is having an identity crisis and/or an affair. Please bring us an HD remaster of the Kurosawa movie instead.

It Has to be Lived Once and Dreamed Twice (Rainer Kohlberger)

Soothing sea of television static and electric popcorn sfx. Soft voiceover wanted to tell us about carbon dioxide on earth, and the background noise of living, but I was adrift until an evil racket woke me up at the halfway point. She goes on about the nature of thought and matter and individuals while the image features a Frankenstein face melting in a digital snowstorm.

Blake Williams in Cinema Scope:

A half-hour sci-fi essay on posthumanism, cinema, and artificial intelligence, the work all but announces itself as its generation’s La Jetée. Beneath a monotonous voiceover (written by Kohlberger and spoken by British-German singer-songwriter Anika) that drowsily questions the nature — and the disappearance — of being and thought (“Something is not right…”), we find Kohlberger’s most complex assortment of digital textures yet. Drawing from an image bank that the artist says was generated from approximately half of science fiction cinema history, it has to be lived flips through channels of deeply crushed visual information, the frame a radioactive wasteland of scrolling zebra patterns and lo-fi grey goo. The effect is one of radical liminality, caught in transitions between form and formlessness, declaration and lyricism, foreshadowing and aftermath … We see things we know we’ve seen but no longer recognize, and consider thoughts constructed from sentences that themselves know they cannot achieve clarity (“Everything we’ve received so far has been confusing or incomprehensible”). Short of generating images that might be determinably “real” or artificial, it has to be lived meets both sides halfway, documenting the afterlife of subjectivity from the perspective of sentient objects. Like the glitch aesthetic that these images have settled into, this is a promise of failure at the end of the age of the individual, presented with a fundamental ambivalence that is as frightening as it is pacifying. If everything we know and hold is destined for renewal and reprocessing, subject to boundless capacities to be reconfigured into anything, then who is to say it all won’t be even better than before? For in an age where everything is an image, the sky may well be the limit.


Palace of Colours (Prantik Basu)

Narrated creation myths over very colorful shots of landscapes, natural rocks, painted walls
Such a peaceful 26-minute movie it might take you a couple hours to watch due to pausing for a nap in the middle.


27 Thoughts About My Dad (Mike Hoolboom)

Listed everywhere as 27 Thoughts About My Father, but the film itself and the full transcript at the director’s website say “Dad.” Mike tells his 27 stories about Canadian immigrant (via Holland via Indonesia) engineer dad while the early visuals are his experiments with light and focus, trying to create Malick scenes and/or advertisements. Some scenes are extremely digital, and the scene that’s all shots from 2001: A Space Odyssey made me wonder if the earlier shots were from actual Malick scenes and/or advertisements.


Cezanne (Luke Fowler)

Rapidly edited shots from mostly outdoors, sometimes the title/name appears, light atmospheric birdsong on the soundtrack.

“Everyone say amen for the technical difficulties … give the technician a big hand for the difficulties.”

Aretha murdered the audience, then the choir, then the band leader, and the movie’s only half over. The choir leader (who is named Alexander Hamilton) survived. Please give everyone in this church a bottle of water.

Christoph Huber in Cinema Scope:

Franklin conceived the album as a return to her spiritual roots (her father, also a reverend, delivers a moving speech in the last quarter of the movie), and one of the reasons she set out to record it live rather than in a studio was to capture that feeling which could only be generated by audience participation. Apart from being a musical document of the highest order, Amazing Grace emerges as a skillful orchestration of communal rapture.

Max Goldberg, 13 issues later:

Whatever they say, the music documentary gets jittery in the face of actual music. Perhaps it’s not so surprising: the most potent element of the movie — in some real sense its reason for being — is the one thing the filmmaker had no part in. Is it so hard to imagine this situation creating ambivalence, even anxiety? The film needs to do something, so it cuts … For me, the story of Amazing Grace serves as a kind of parable, articulating our wildest hopes for the music documentary: to bring sound and image back into alignment, to make the music whole again.

A self-conscious sequel, Swanberg directing the first act (in which Swanberg tells Kent he doesn’t want to make a sequel and Kent should make it without him), then Rohal taking over as Kent explores simulation theory, wonders whether his reality is real, then takes charge when the apocalypse comes to comic con.


Get This Party Slammin’ is a very pandemic-looking home time-lapse movie in which Kent wakes up at 10:42pm and energetically cuts his own hair in the bathroom.

Rat Pack Rat (2014)
Woman with newspapered-over windows hires a Sammy Davis impressionist off craigslist to entertain and possibly masturbate/mercy-kill her bedridden son Steve Little. Star Eddie Rouse was a David Gordon Green regular who died the year this short came out, the mom’s only other credit is one of the few Bob Byington movies I haven’t seen. Jennifer Prediger of the Uncle Kent series is also a Byington regular. Kent was in another Swanberg joint with Jane Adams called Build The Wall, which I guess I’ve gotta watch next.

Pumpkin Movie (2017)

Sophy in one city is skyping with a friend in Halifax while they carve jack-o-lanterns and discuss sexist aggressions from the past year.


Norman Norman (2018)

Repeat appearance by the director’s Macbook as she looks up videos about dog cloning while her own dog (Norman, elderly, in rough shape) lays with her on the bed.


In Dog Years (2019)

Interviews with owners of messed-up dogs, some near the end of their lives, with all focus on the dogs and their stories, the owners’ faces not shown. “In memory of Norman,” oh no. I was supposed to follow these up with Nine Behind / It’s Him / Grandma’s House, but already shaken by dying dogs I couldn’t take on dying grandmothers.

I did not like the lab scene where they implanted an eXistenZ gamepod port into a dog’s underside. After that, I felt free to skip ahead during the other b/w lab horrors. Observational long takes of Moscow street dogs pays off when one is filmed catching and killing a housecat. Or maybe “pays off” isn’t the term, since Kedi played theaters across the country, and this one played nowhere. Narrator (the star of Leviathan) tells of Russia’s history of firing animals into space, intercut with observational doc scenes of Moscow street dogs. The directors followed up with another Moscow street dogs movie, and their first film about people debuts in a couple days at Locarno. The Tori Amos song > the movie… Katy’s least-favorite shorts director edited.

The directors didn’t have space in mind when they started filming [Seventh Row]:

Suddenly, when we found out that Laika had been living on the streets, the film became so rich. These street dogs we see in the film are real explorers. They have to be in order to survive. They have to understand every movement in the city. They have to know how the city is changing and how they can find a place to stay and survive. We found it interesting that there were similarities between these dogs and their ancestors, the heroic cosmonaut dogs.

Okay, there was a blu-ray sale and I’ve been itching to revisit Todd Rohal so I bought Uncle Kent 2, and I know I probably do not need to watch Uncle Kent first, and I’m currently feeling end-of-world vibes from the news and am certainly not watching bad/average/filler movies on purpose, but I convinced myself that Uncle Kent 1 could be better than average, it could be a real good time, a valuable way to spend a tuesday night – and I was right.

Kent hand-draws cartoons at home, gets high, uses dating sites. Kate comes over to stay for a few days but claims to have a boyfriend, and sleeps in another room – then they meet Josephine (Decker!) on craigslist and all make out together on the couch. The most dramatic thing that happens is when Kent messes up trying to copy a nude photo from Kate’s phone and destructively covers his tracks.

I admit I only watched this because I’m rewatching the long Rivette film with a similar title, but it turned out to be great, currently my favorite Hausner movie. Set in the 1810s, pleasantly suicidal poet Christian Friedel can’t convince Sandra Hüller to die with him, so terminally ill poetry fan Katharina Schüttler steps up. Many quotable scenes within.