Purpulan

Somewhere, I can't remember where, I read that Paolo Marocchio of "Å" (ipse dixit) considered "Lothus" one of the best Italian albums ever... and if he said it...(for Nite92: didn’t Corrado Rustici already produce Elisa's debut album?)... and, Hypno..., having skimmed through the shopping list you've compiled so far, and finding your modus operandi rather enjoyable, would you, by any chance, consider accepting request reviews?! Because you've already done 2 on Cranes, but only briefly alluded to their episode that I think borders on the sublime (in the Burkean sense of the term): "La Tragedie d'Oreste et Electre" (and not always do flies buzz around the poop...)

Um, I apologize for the repetition of -however- in the same sentence...but the text box here keeps getting smaller and I lose my train of thought.

Far from me to make an apology for such a thing, or rather for what has been its evolution (which, in fact, hasn’t really happened at all; instead, I would say that after just a few steps it has horrifyingly devolved)... then we must consider whether its success at the turn of the millennium nonetheless opened the doors to projects of a completely different caliber such as, to mention two that are hard to criticize, Mastodon or Isis (and on the latter, the proponents of post-rock have already tried to claim an unspecified paternity... but are we joking???!).

The plot of the film is so thin that its unveiling (given the specificity of the interest it may arouse in a contemporary viewer) does not diminish the viewing experience; it's a good idea to highlight the two pivotal scenes, or topical moments: the semantic intersection of marriage and its mirrored resolution (obviously at the end). Considering Browning's filmography, as well as the standards of the time, calling it a horror (released in 1932, mind you) does not seem at all incorrect to me. I would also underscore the influence exerted by the film on more or less acclaimed contemporary authors: the early Lynch (but isn’t there a dwarf acting as a psychopomp in "Fire Walk with Me" as well?), leading to the more 'conventional' Jodorowsky in "Santa Sangre" (which in its first part skirts the line of pedantic citation).

Seen live this summer and I remember that the 2 or 3 new songs they presented left me quite indifferent... the first thing that came to mind were some apathetic drifts of the Dirty Three, more "onfalomaniacal" (i.e.: solely interested in gazing at their own belly buttons!). P.S.: isn't it that Moccia and Tamaro also lend their precious contribution in the (dis)credit zone?!...Review: 3.5.

How well this film has aged... now it even turns 80, I thought it wouldn't make it to 70... and anyway, it's the widely recognized and unmistakable manifesto of Hollywood ethics (more than aesthetics)... more hands directing it (even Cukor passed through it sideways), but one true father/master... David Selznick (read: the producer)... ah, the smell of the green... leaf!!! Much more than "Citizen Kane" (I really don’t know how one could put them on the same level!).

Sure, a seat in the third row, where watching a movie requires a lifetime membership to the friends of presbyopia club, and the risk of parking fines is quite high.

That nu-metal may have worn out its welcome is understandable (yet very few say the same about the countless random and unbearable offshoots of post-rock, which still beautifully slosh around the contemporary music market), but the fact that we’ve forgotten how fresh it was in its early days within the rock scene of the nineties is just as casual. The Bizkit with "Three Dollar Bill, Y’all" had created something more than good; certainly, their last two albums aren’t enough to redeem them from that bottomless swamp that is "Chocolate Starfish...". Here, however, with Borland’s absence, they bring out an interesting series of guitar movements reminiscent of Quicksand that’s always nice to hear again (even if they could have spared us the Who cover, good only for appearing in that pointless flick "Gothika"). Adequately nuts reception (3+).

Alright, let's clarify a few things: Peter Lorre (stage name of Lazlo Löwenstein) was Hungarian by birth (but at that time it was under the Austro-Hungarian Empire). Among the directors who exploited his distinctive flair, I would also include Roger Corman. In "M" (which is inspired by the story of the "real" monster of Hannover), the issue of the serial killer is merely a pretext to cast a critical eye on the condition of post-war and pre-National Socialist Germany (and the use of sound for almost metafilmic purposes in that film is now a topic of cinematic manuals). Indeed, after the narrative and perspective reversal taking place, it is precisely the bovine populace and "lyncher" that ultimately take on the attributes of "monstrosity."

Ah, Italians... good people!!! In a mood for various and sundry neoralismi, I notice a certain lack of synopses regarding the complete works (truly sparse!) of the good (and talented) Peppino!