Slashers and screwball comedies are the comfiest.
27 years old
Soon to be Dad
Totally not freaking out
He / him
Black silhouetted madness. A Hitchcock-fused brew of style and suspense; a cold-blooded thriller in the simplest of terms, amplifying towards a slick spit of snazzy horror sensation with its distinct sense of reality that lurks within each brooding shot. Bleached strains of coldness drifting from its mask of evil; the devil's eyes sitting with scopic vision. Stalking, waiting, and pursuing;…
From what was being said on twitter about this movie, I thought I would hate it. But surprisingly, I thought The Whale was a totally fine melodrama. Nothing more. This thing has a truly awful ending, and the ugliness it portrays with Brendan Fraser’s appearance is discerning, but there’s a lot of heart in his performance.
A vessel of John Carpenter gloss and shock. The Fog meets Assault on Precinct 13 meets The Thing, fizzling in a flimsy array of Carpenter claustrophobia. Cults, cloaks, and crosses (not to mention triangles); an illuminati-astronomical parasite honing to a drained abyss. Emergency-red brightness cascading on victims and heroes, drowning in an dissolute echo of dread. An urge to fight, run, and creep. A shitstorm of a night for the characters and the audience. A hell-bent creation of freaks and…
The wettest kind of consciousness, percolating memories that flood with no specific significance, nor cascade with the true essence of meaning—they sit, stir, and rattle the brain with all of its attempts at explanation. Beckoning an existential gaze that beautifies the believers and the heroes—surrounded in a stream of fake electronic components and fake matter. To these wanderers, life is fenced in and forgotten, intact with their provisions and protocol—this is the future,…