Tag Archives: Frank Henenlotter

Basket Case + The Funeral

Basket Case + The Funeral

Films about brotherhood from notorious 42nd street directors. What is (or was) 42nd street? The revival theater. Audience consent and the church of unacceptable behavior. A young man carrying a big basket that contains his extremely deformed Siamese-twin brother seeks vengeance on the doctors who separated them against their will. New York City, the 1930s. A powerful crime family is caught in a lethal crossfire between union organizers and brutal corporate bosses. Against this turbulent backdrop, the family’s three street-hardened brothers and the women they love are about to be plunged into a deadly confrontation with their enemies, with each other, and with their own dark heritage of violence, madness and murder. Continue reading

Dead Ringers + Bad Biology

Dead Ringers + Bad Biology

A completely serious look at two unsexy films about sex. Or sex-parts, at least. LuFae Suicide makes things feel like home again. Dead Ringers sets the level for subtle right at the title. Jeffrey Irons, alone with you. Love, drugs, and sex. Partner sharing somehow makes things whole again. Obsession, however far away. What’s the best one you’ve ever seen? Can’t spoil whatever words you say. Twenty four minutes later and clean again. The basket case. Frank Henelotter makes the audience feel young again. A single level of tact, however long it stays. Promising the best. Bad Biology feels like being free again. The producer’s end credits rap song. …howeverfaraway I will alway love you. Continue reading

Brain Damage + The Stuff

Brain Damage + The Stuff

Off the 1980’s VHS shelf. Beloved filmmakers who very much love themselves. Special effects artists Sheila Mia Seifi and Rob Burman. Unraveling the magic of Brain Damage. An order of magnitude longer than necessary. Is there a secret meaning buried in Brain Damage? (Probably not). Getting right into The Stuff. What is the Stuff made of? More secrets never uncovered. I mean, sure, just light it on fire I guess. The cult appeal! The beauty of surface value. New information on why Paul Sorvino might be a thing. Those goddamn faces though. Continue reading