terry zwigoff is a stocky, bald-headed son of a bitch who once locked himself in to his trailer during a shoot with a gun threatening to kill himself. i saw him speak once and though he seemed tart, the percolating anger just didn't seem to be present. this film, his greatest if you ask me, is acerbic and odd in the way only zwigoff can nail, but the majority of this caustic behavior stems from its subject, the erstwhile famous fellow 60s comic icon robert crumb. if a film produced by david lynch and filmed by zwigoff doesn't tempt you enough, just know there's a character in the film (another crumb brother who incidentally i'm privy to his sf whereabouts) who swallows a string and allows it to cleanse his digestion bits for nearly 12 days.
brilliant pic, just released from my savior the criterion collection.
---
criterion counsel: just got back, but a big screen is floating in my future, so chances are looking good for mr. kurosawa's film.
1 comment:
Dunno I'm pretty sure Bad Santa is the greatest film ever made, to say nothing of Zwigoff's greatest.
My word verification is "sesesses" btw, which makes me feel like there's a hidden camera watching me type.
Post a Comment