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maybe we fly lower, let's say....beyond Dinosaur JR
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There is a scene in Gus Van Sant's film "Last Days" (the one, let's say, about Kurt Cobain) when the band's drummer walks into the room, puts an LP (I emphasize LP) on the turntable, drops the needle, and starts with John Cale's viola, followed by Lou Reed's voice in "Venus in Furs," and he sits down humming the words. A magical, chilling moment, and in the room, I could hear people wondering what piece and what band it was... God, have mercy on them!
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...right! this is a movie you either give a 1 or a 5, both are fine, there's no middle ground.
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I believe that horror novices are already used in their normal lives to having their stomachs conditioned to "endure" the outlandish nonsense thrown at them by Rodriguez, which aren't meant to frighten but to parody at full force. Honestly, I laughed more than I felt like vomiting, but maybe my stomach is in good shape.
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By now, with all the mp3s they download, these kids don’t even know the difference between an EP and an LP anymore... the original cover of this seminal masterpiece had a banana peeling. What was a cover? It was the cardboard wrapping that enclosed the vinyl, sometimes made with a single face and in the more luxurious cases made with two faces that opened like a book. Some were so beautiful that they were worth more than the music contained in the disc itself...
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,,,miss (or ma'am, I am fortunate not to know you) maryg, I confirm that if it hadn't been a careless mistake due to haste (I meant to check rock), I wouldn't have marked the post-rock box, which by the way is a genre that annoys me greatly. I'm sorry to have caused you such acidity that your gastrointestinal system is now listed as "to be avoided" in the Michelin guide for endoparasites and maybe you should have some healthy sex to mitigate the disastrous effects on your character.
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For the record: the mirror scene copied from the Marx Brothers is in "Totò e Cleopatra."
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your previous comment is too long, Poletti. I don’t like reading; I prefer watching movies.
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For me, Totò is untouchable, but Muffin isn't entirely wrong; as an Italian or perhaps as a Croatian or a Norwegian, I roll on the ground laughing at Marx Brothers movies. I doubt that an American, or even the Croatian or the Norwegian, would do the same with Totò's films.
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Poletti, every now and then, abandon a bit of your overconfidence. The Marx Bros are not just the rapid-fire jokes of Groucho; watch the VISUAL gag in "The Great Dictator of the Marx Brothers" with Harpo, Chico, and the lemonade vendor, or that one with Groucho in front of the mirror that isn't there. They will be endlessly copied for years to come. The latter even by Totò. (You, who are a connoisseur, will also remember in which film.)