Jimmie Dimmick

Modification to the review: "I made a mistake and repeated it." See the old version Ma cosa ci dice il cervello - Riccardo Milani - recensione Versione 1

You don't understand a damn thing, this movie is a blast, go fuck yourselves and watch Spiderman, assholes.

I trust you!

great review, there's some love in it.
but Moddi is from Puglia!

focca troia tango and cash masterpiece

If you can't watch a movie for more than half an hour and on the second attempt you have to split it into two parts, my friend, forgive me, but in my opinion, the problem is yours, and anyway MARTIN SCORSESE IS NOT TO BE TOUCHED A PRIORI IT'S LIKE MOM.

Ladies and gentlemen, I would say that the only sure thing is that the quarantine is doing you a lot of harm!

Useless review of an ugly album by a mediocre pretentious rapper.
The underlying debate is endearing. The old Italian problem of understanding an Afro, but especially American culture.
The lyrics are important AH but then you are like singer-songwriters! No. Rap hip-hop is stuff from across the ocean and saying that damn it I have way more girls than you, I hang out with my buddies and I break it down more than you on the beat is part of the deal. They know that over there, but not here. Because we simply don't have it in our DNA; after all, we are still the country of the mafia, the umma umma is our culture, not always extreme ostentation. Seeing these attempts, like Murubutu's, to Europeanize something that is not European, tightens the heart. Poor failed rappers, who by the age of 30 realize that no, they can no longer say certain things, that these negroes are too ignorant damn it, let's add some thickness from the old continent and here it is: your rap sucks (damn I feel gruff).
Let’s give it up. The comparison doesn’t hold. Murubutu write books, recites poetry. Rap is fundamentally not our business, except for the most crass, who don’t even see the problem, in one sense (lyrics - see Dogo and sons) or the other (music - see Fibra and sons).

"2001: A Space Odyssey, I've seen it three times and I didn't get a damn thing."
Maybe a bit too much? The destination is beautiful, the journey is too, but the vehicle runs on a mix, too much mix. From Plato to Fellini, there's a bit of everything, you believe in good faith, there’s no onanism(?), but it still feels heavy. Moreover, the light has gone out, it must be a blackout, clarity has faded away. Easy to get lost, easy to get bored, which is a shame because the reflections are valid and the unexpressed invites scrutiny like something magnificent, in potential.

nothing