Hetzer

"You talk" about money, food, penish suggestions, noses & faces... All stuff that, according to you, either doesn't exist or doesn't concern you...
You can't tell if you're a catastrophic bullshit artist, a mess of incoherence, or a mass of nothing...
You don't know a damn thing, let alone (say) what a city is...
Anyway, this attempt of yours at G. G. Belli is pretty damn bad...
Pull yourself together, you'll be luckier...

I saw this "masterpiece" during a "retrospective" on alien films "organized" during a student self-management; I'll let you imagine what it might remind me of...
I don't actually remember "Parasitic Astral Entities" being present, so this fake "Armaniddazzazione" leaves me somewhat perplexed...
But... did you (handsomely) pay the film establishment to attend the aforementioned showcase, or was it all proudly and anti-capitalistALLY FREE??
Two considerations. First: the film is terrible, but as a clip to demonstrate how special effects can be cobbled together with four solids, it's phenomenal...
Second: the story of your Roman encounter with Armand honestly makes me smile; not laugh or smirk, but smile in a good way... Well done!

I don’t rate the review, which is excellently written, just because you, dear @[ZiOn], “owed” me a review that, however, isn’t this one.. Your choice leaves me perplexed and disoriented, so I’ll keep the five palettes for the event you’ve already teased me about..

That said, with a sigh of relief, I read names and monikers (or as you say to make it cooler, "moniker(s)") of which I know (obviously) squat.. Luckily for me..

What is (de)written is quite exhaustive enough to understand that this latest cash machine of the music/Italian market is in the phase of record pumping to appeal to just about everyone, with the sexy winks that emerge from the cover, and a carefully packaged attitude in view of the lively summer that, alas, at least in the non-southern areas, is slow to arrive..

Operations like these no longer evoke outrage or disgust in me, but at most a condescending tenderness.. As it should be..

To me, he is a clown... Actually, worse than a clown, because he has always conveyed to me a feeling of "masonic toxicity" that, I don't know, makes me (almost) horrified...
Anyway, once there were him and several other clowns...
Then one day the clowns took control of the circus...

Oh right, the one about the "bopponi" is that other one..

I, as a good VdM, didn't particularly enjoy "Fury Road." In hindsight, the nostalgic tear-jerker effect leaves me with a pleasant film, but nothing more.
As a true VdM, for me, the real Mad Max is the rough and crazy craftsmanship of the Aussies who ran away from home, and even though Tom Hardy did his part well, the golden vein has now been exhausted.
Moreover, waving around a potential franchise right from the title makes it clear that ideas have run out, the iconic faces have either aged or died, the broth has to be stretched, and the "saga" will only exist under the pressure of box office receipts.
No way around it: for me, the last true image of Mad Max is that of the hero facing the deadly desert after being spared by Aunty Entity.
But I’m a VdM; so I have little to be surprised about.

Rape, even atomic, and therefore contamination, etc., is never "unacceptable," as those who suffer it are destined to do so. I mean, better yet, you say it well, right?
The hydrogen bomb has nothing to do with it; about twenty Japanese have suffered its fury.
Describe the film very well: obscene is the most accurate word. An obscenity so extreme and imperfect that it pierces like a cold needle into a cloud of lukewarm and prosaic thoughts.

Greek tragedy is among the mitochondria of our thought and our civilization. It’s an immersion into our subconscious. This "episode" of the Oedipus saga is the one I remember the least; it must be 25 years since my last reading. Sophocles is the gourmet of catharsis, and I really appreciated the notes on the stylistic evolution of the "genre" and the almost melancholic reference to the Batraci and to that distant year, almost from Twilight of the Gods.
In my house, there’s a box that neatly holds all these treasures; you've given me an idea.

Noise is not for me, but you wrote very well about this album unknown to me and with a beautiful cover.

Sooner or later, ideologicalism will die: the manipulations surrounding the resistance will come to an end. We will have to come to terms with the fact that it was not the veterans, but the Allies who defeated, and I emphasize DEFEATED, the Nazi-fascists.
We will have to settle for taking pleasure in having caught the pig. Will we be able to admit that we bowed our heads before the liberators who kindly "forgave" us and helped us draft our Constitution, just because Italy had no other choice?
We must resign ourselves to the fact that fascism is dead, and that the "fascio" attitude is little more than a sad folklore on social networks (just like that of the "students" who caress pogroms while shouting "now and always resistance").
However, you haven’t reviewed anything at all.