Blood, Sex, and Jessica Lange: The Beauty of American Horror Story

Scariest nun Meryl Streep in Doubt

I know I’m way late coming into this, but I really only binge watch shows these days because my weekends are loads of fun spent spooning my dog and streaming Netflix. I don’t watch shows one by one on TV like some chump. And since Netflix started streaming American Horror Story, I finally had something beside Lost re-runs or desperately trying to pay attention to the turd waffle that is TURN. I love to be scared ergo I avoided shows like that because I’m thinking; ‘how terrifying could it be, it’s on television?’ turns out VERY. I’m a full on addict and on the third season. Yay! My life is awesome!

I was always intrigued by the series considering it stars so many reputable actors including a number of Oscar winners; Kathy Bates, Jessica Lange, Gabourey Sidibe, Joseph Fiennes, Frances Conroy, I mean how bad could it be if the biggest names in Hollywood are flocking to it like a moth to a flame?

The premise is awesome. Making a show like this, you have to ask yourself, how do we keep this consistently terrifying in a TV format? We’re not Alfred Hitchcock. So here’s what the creators did; every season takes place in a different place and time and under different circumstances recycling the main cast into new roles. It’s bizarre but it totally works. Every season has a subtitle. The first one is ‘Murder House’ which takes place in a heavily haunted house in Los Angeles that an unassuming family moves into.

Don't mess with the Lange. She's a witch.

The second season is subtitled; ‘Asylum’, the third is ‘Coven’, you get the idea. Asylum takes place in the 60’s, while Coven is set in New Orleans, but what’s consistent (perhaps the only consistency) are the actors even though every season they play different characters.

Let’s move on to what we find scary. Me personally? I hate blood and guts, that’s not at all frightening to me, it’s gross more than anything else. I love suspense. Dark corners, unexplained noises, moving shadows…you get the idea. American Horror Story utilizes both. It is not for those with a weak stomach. It’s pretty damn gory. It’s also surprisingly very blatantly sexual. It doesn’t shy away from any extremities. There are severed heads, buckets of blood, naked men, a lot of simulated sex…basically everything that you wouldn’t expect to see on TV.

Another regular on the show is fabulous actress Sarah Paulson. I heard in Freakshow she has two heads. I don't know why or how, I just want to see it damn it. My god, what have I turned into?

Of all the bright spots and innovation of this series, I’ll have to give the gold medal to Jessica Lange on this one. She’s absolutely fabulous and this completely resurrected her career. She’s played a controlling Southern Belle, a lunatic nun, the head of a witches’ coven, and she’s unbelievable. She’s so frightening and enticing at the same time. Having her front and center every season was a very smart move. Also, at this point we know that basically every kind of story has already been told, to the point where we find ‘found footage’ horror movies actually interesting…ugh. Ergo, the show strives to be as outlandish as possible. It’s hard to believe in its campiness but it’s delicious. I’m more titillated than terrified and can watch it with the lights off…as I said my dog is usually there. Dear Netflix, please start streaming the 4^th season; American Horror Story: Freak Show so I can get caught up for the 5^th season. I only have like 2 weeks before it’s premiere and I can’t wait to see what you’re going to do with Lady Gaga.

Below, trailer for Hotel...

Below, trailer for Coven, the season I'm currently on and my favorite so far. 

Hell Hath No Fury Like a Spurned Horned-Fairy Bitter Ex-Girlfriend

I'm sure they stole contacts off the Twilight set for this.

So I went to see Maleficent (2014) last Friday with dwindling optimism. I'm one of those girls that's not a huge fan of Angelina but that's really due to resentment and jealousy more than anything else. So myself and my hetero life-mate Shannon, parked ourselves in one of the back corners and because we both get dizzy from 3-D prepared for a regular screening of Maleficent. Neither of us had seen the original Disney version since we were this side of 8 years old, but it wasn't too crowded in there and we snuck in yogurt, so how bad could it be? The answer is surprisingly, not at all. I was actually feasibly impressed, and my dead heart fluttered just a tiny bit. Don't get me wrong I rolled my eyes quite a bit and had a few choice sarcastic quips for the growing more and more annoyed person I was with, but I left that theater feeling like that was not time wasted. Shocker.
Angie makes a splendid comeback to the big screen after a four-year hiatus and being publically humiliated at the Golden Globes by Ricky Gervais, and then her weird leg-dress moment at the 2012 Oscars. I mean what was that exactly? Then she reappeared to support her husband’s producing efforts last year at the Oscar and even went up to the stage when 12 Years a Slave (2013) won for Best Picture even though she had nothing to do with it besides being married to the Executive Producer, but that’s H-Wood I guess.

Let’s just admit it female community, we were never fans. She was too intimidating with her long legs, her crisp cheekbones that could cut glass, the most sensual lips ever, and long wavy locks of brunette hair. Fuck her seriously, who’s born like that? So we aren’t exactly itching to bring our boyfriends along to one of her flicks, unless we know we’re going to be prodding them the entire time with asinine questions like ‘do you think she’s prettier than me?’. Poor men, they have to lie and say ‘no not at all sweetie, I enjoy how ‘normal’ and ‘boring’ you look’… or ‘I find tattoos gauche and vulgar’…and my favorite ‘I’m not attracted to perfect-looking women’. UGHHHH!

Just admit it you would cheat on me with Angelina Jolie, and that goes for every man in America ladies, even the blind ones. Moving ooooooooon!

We all (and by we all I mean the women amongst us) remember the Disney version of Sleeping Beauty (1959) like it was yesterday. Don’t know about ya’ll but it used to terrify the everloving shit out of me.

I especially cowered at that part when Princess Aurora is hypnotized and wanders into that old forgotten room full of broken spindles with her eyeballs dilated like she just dropped 8 hits of E. I swear that would haunt my nightmares, also that's a huge hole in the story, seriously. They couldn't just burn the spindles in a giant pire, they have to hide them in a room that no one will ever get into? Really? ...really really? 

But as traumatized as I was and as much as the night light company made off of me, I did not expect the re-imagining of the classic tale to be at all scary. I honestly thought it would a farce and at the very least yield a lot of snarky eye-rolls. But I got distracted by the ridiculous amount of homages or rather pastiches of Lord of the Rings, and the endless who's who parade of marginally famous actors for whom I carry a deep appreciation such as Sharlto Copley who made a huge impression on all of us with his debut film District 9. Then there's Sam Reilly who made HIS debut in the disastrous clusterfuck of a movie On the Road (2011) based on the American Opus by Jack Kerouac where he played the Kerouac-inspired character of Sal. Then there's Dakota Fanning prettier and more talented little sister Elle as Sleeping Beauty herself, with basically the entire Mike Leigh company including Lesley Manville and Imelda Staunton rounding out the cast. I mean, that's pretty effing impressive. You would expect a cast list like to read like the opening credits to a Shakespeare adaptation. But Shakespeare this is not. It was amusing, and at times campy as hell, and in the good way. Angie is definitely not taking herself too seriously which is a feat for her. But she is bringing all of her chops to this rather sparkly and ridiculous parable. She doesn't chew the scenery, and in fact holds back when she has to making her performance enigmatic, emotionally charged, and at times sarcastic. It works, what else can I say? Oh yeah, and Juno Temple is there too so what's not visual masturbation about this film. T&A from Angie, walking and talking trees a la Lord of the Rings for the geek crowd, and enough glammed out costume changes to make David Bowie jealous, it's a sensual feast for the eyes, but don't expect it to warm your heart or anything. It's completely predictable and somewhat banal, but who cares? Angelina has horns and a catsuit. What else do you need exactly, needy! It's a formulaic Disney live-action film with little depth and an actress that should reside nowhere near Disney street, but now that she's a momma to like 45 toddlers, has started to mellow out a bit. It was enjoyable. And don't even get me started on the S&M fetishies that's all over this freakin' film that went flying over the kids' heads. It's a tongue and cheek sexual interpretation of a beloved old classic which is the best kind of interpretation you can have. I mean seriously, who's more sexually explicit than Ang? It's giving a new generation of 12-year-old Disney fans something different to wank to. More power to it.

Nymphomaniac: Art That You Can Wank To

Shia and Stacey as Jerome and young Joe. Already an iconic image. 

In approaching a Von Trier film, there is a ritual. You cannot be hung over, just have had a meal, or be with anyone else. Literally anyone. The shock value alone will leave you open for public mockery. So it's saturday, it's too cold for the beach. I don't want to get out of my newly bough plush bathrobe from Restoration Hardware that my mom so generously got for me last weekend (thanks mom!) so there was nothing better to do than order Nymphomaniac Parts I and II and binge watch them until my mind was mush and I had lost all feeling in my lady parts and decided to never have sex again as long as I live. But that's typical Von Trier. His as most would say 'misogynistic' treatment of his female characters is a hallmark of most of his films, scratch that, all of his films, even though artfully and masterfully executed. I am not one to label Von Trier a chauvinist. I'd label him a Nazi but that's a whole different story (we all remember what happened at Cannes). Why is he not misogynistic in my opinion? Because throughout the film and afterwards you are very much in an empathetic and completely kindred state with the female protagonist. His films do not show women as victims, though throughout they are subjected to all sorts of abuse, mental, physical, verbal, you name it. His protagonists stand in defiance of said abuse and are always women that know exactly what it is they want and know how to ascertain it. In the same breath I would say that James Cameron par example is a misogynistic director, and if I have to explain why, you might as well stop readying right now. Von Trier even gives Skarsgård a monologue about the vicious double standard that women have to deal with in terms of being aware and in pursuit of sexual pleasure. 

Stacey Martin as young Joe, later played by Charlotte Gainsbourg. I really hope I don't have to explain what's going on in this picture. A character who's 'coming of age' was considerably different from most. 

Anyway on to Nymphomaniac, with the hooplah surrounding the film and the almost laughable marketing campaign that has been lampooned by basically every major film critic, it was a highly anticipated cinematic romp, no pun intended. Ok puns are going to be unavoidable here so just bear with me. 

The film concerns a woman named Joe who has been found beaten in an alley way by Stellan Skarsgård, an intellectual asexual who nurses her back to health while she tells him all about her sordid background as a nymphomaniac. The only difference is that she was a nymphomaniac out of lust not out of need. You see? She wants sex because she fucking wants it bitches, not because it's something she can't control. It's like saying you're an alcoholic because you're thirsty. 

Although this looks like a still from your regular run-of-the-mill porn, it's actually one of the more funny scenes in the film, if not one of the most sexually explicit. Hard to combine the two.

Basically, though Von Trier muse Charlotte Gainsbourg is first billed and in every advert for the film, most of the film concerns her in her younger state, played brilliantly and fearlessly in her debut performance by Stacey Martin. The biggest novelty in this film is the endless parade of surprising supporting players, mainly those of Shia Lebeouf and Jamie Bell. This is where Von Trier really shines as a director because he basically takes a chance on seemingly banal and wasteful actors and transforms them into unbelievably vivid performers. It's also probably Uma Thurman's best role since she was Mia Wallace even though she's on screen for less than 10 minutes. He also does a little tribute to one of his own films Antichrist (2009) shhhhh! I think it's supposed to be a secret. 

Sexually speaking it's actually one of the more easy films to digest aesthetically. I'd much rather watch Shia and Stacey have un-simulated animalistic intercourse than watch some Nicholas Sparks inspired bullshit where Ryan Gosling kisses the back of some girl's neck behind some curtains with a violin playing in the distance, and the rest we are meant to imagine for ourselves. I think Von Trier touches on a very important aspect of sex that we try to ignore as movie-goers. We always want to imagine it as beautiful, electric, and magical; an act that fulfills us, always with love. 

This is Shia's epic apology for well...everything that preceded this film. He's actually a damn good actor. I'm going to burn in hell for saying that. Film buff hell. Where they only show Michael Bay films and demons screeching Tarantino's praises constantly taunt you. 

Because we as the movie-goer and as actual human beings all lack that basically. The universal truth about sex is that it's AWKWARD. It's strange, painful, (not in the way that you think, you perv), unfulfilling, and most of the time lacking what is constantly referred in the film as 'the secret ingredient'; love. Sex is a constant state of learning. Learning what we like, what others like, what we absolutely need and what we absolutely won't ever do. It's a self-discovery more cerebral than we think, and Von Trier manages to capture this by equating it to almost a Zizekian philosophical study in this film, not to say that it's pretentious in the least. There's a beautiful scene where Skarsgård explains the beauty of Bach's compositions by three elements, which Joe (Gainsbourg) equates to three types of lovers that when combined create a 'beautiful tune'. Speaking of which, the use of music is absolutely brilliant in this film. Instead of a prolonged Wagner score (again, ahem...Nazi), that he usually uses, it's a total mix up of some of the most iconic classical music pieces out there. My favorite is when (spoiler alert) Joe is forced to go into sexual-addiction rehab, she has to get rid of anything that reminds her of sex or anything that turns her on. In the background is playing the first movement of Mozart's requiem, as if she's preparing for death, or that a piece of her is dying. It's not exactly subtle, but it's tongue in cheek. (Another pun!). 

Gainsbourg must either really really love working with Von Trier or has some kind of debt that has yet to be repaid because I don't know of any other actress who is able and willing to put herself through as much as she has, and not just in this one film. 

Now, I'm of the belief that Von Trier has probably had sex maybe three times in his life, and perhaps that is why he needed to make Nymphomaniac. It reminds me of a review that I read from Roger Ebert talking about the Peter Greenway film; 8 1/2 Women (2001) where a father and son create a private harem being inspired by the Fellini film, 8 1/2 (1963). He begged the question; how many directors make films about their unspoken sexual fantasies, and the answer is...all of them. Von Trier just took it a step further...as he tends to. And the ending is I mean, absolutely brilliant, and the best exhaltation of a woman's plight I've ever seen. I can't give away more than that, but it's brilliantly perfect. Anyway, I liked it. I recommend it, but again. Approach with caution.

Trailer below:

My Top 10 Films Directed By Women

I was inspired by this article: Top 100 Movies of All Time… By Female Directors and also a facebook thread I started a while back that I now can't find where I asked everyone to write a female director to see if we could make it to 100. And we made it well past 100. We all know filmmaking is the boy's club, but some of the best filmmakers out there right now and in the past are women. Trailblazers, innovators, theorists, and originals most of all, here are my top 10 films directed by the gentler sex. 

1. Meshes of the Afternoon (Maya Deren) 1943

2. La Souriante Madame Beudet (Germaine Dulac) 1923

3. The Hitch-Hiker (Ida Lupino) 1953 

4. Orlando (Sally Potter) 1992

5. The Piano (Jane Campion) 1993 

6. Boys Don't Cry (Kimberly Peirce) 1999

7. American Psycho (Mary Harron) 2000

8. At Land (Maya Deren) 1944

9. Fat Girl (Catherine Breillat) 2001

Fish Tank (Andrea Arnold) 2009

Honorable mentions below: 

A Feminist Perspective (Gasp!)

Feminism, why is that such a pejorative? Why is it scary? Does it mean that we want to castrate all men on the planet? Maybe...But still, there's no harm in examining media using the feminist prism is there? And why the eff not? Considering that most media, particularly cinema is an exclusive 'gentlemen's club' it's a breath of fresh air when we get a view of the feminine gaze. 

I'd like to introduce a website that my friend brought to my attention that does exactly that. Examines film and television through the feminist lens. Finally. This is not to say that they only deal with material like 'Girls' or Frances Ha (2013), or even The Hunger Games trilogy. They're going at it completely and thoroughly and providing a refreshing perspective from some of the greatest female minds out there on the interwebs, yeah guess what there are a bunch of those, myself included. 

Let's back track a whiiiiiiile. Back in the day (30's to about 70's) there were three roles out there for a female actress to play those being; the whore, the mother, or the wife. All were in one way or another secondary and in a lot of cases degrading. They either served as a support system for the primary male character or an antagonist to the male hero. Now obviously, things are different. Women are at the forefront of cinema and television, and not just in front of the camera either. From Kathryn Bigelow being the first woman in history to win Best Director for The Hurt Locker (2011), to (I hate to say it) Lena Dunham writing and directing, as well as starring in her own HBO series 'Girls' which has garnered astounding critical acclaim and a rather significant following. The march for equality moves on and is assaulting archaic and passe rules instituted on the media by the male executive, male protagonist, and male consumer.

The masthead. 

The website is appropriately called Bitchflicks (BitchFlicks) and focuses its attention on the entire scope of the media today approaching it with snark, sarcasm, clout, and everything else we women are best at. Also, let's face it, we might be the more intellectual of the species so it's important to read something besides Jezebel every once in a while, like something with say substance and value...ergo read Bitchflicks.

A screenshot of some of their material. 

A team of some of the best interwebs female writers out there is a breath of fresh air to provide a new skew on the feminine gaze covering basically everything; from Jennifer Lawrence to Ron Swanson. There has been a shortage of female voices, and no Arianna Huffington doesn't count, out there, and it's quite nice to see a resurgence of it. 'Feminist' may be a four letter word, but it's been four lettter words that have gotten us as far as we've come. Otherwise we'd still be sewing each other into corsets, being seen but not heard. And to be heard on the internet, is a good thing...believe me :)

You're Just a Katy Perry in A Gaga World

The ladies in photoshoots for their next album.

My whole office has been abuzz with the rivalry between two pop-culture giants in music that each have enough moon men and Grammy's as Meryl has Oscars. But let's talk about these two in terms of a Mulveyian skew if we might. Or even Molly Haskell, to me, one is synonymous with the other. If you don't know who they are really quick; Laura Mulvey wrote the seminal film essay 'Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema' which people read to this day in they Intro to Film class all over the country, and yes I met her once at a conference. It was awesome. Last thing she wants to talk about is that essay :P and she loves red wine. Molly Haskell is Andrew Sarris' widow, who's most famous work is an book, also seminal in its own way and much more incendiary; 'From Reverence to Rape; The Treatment of Women in Movies' basically both of these scholars had the same idea and different ways of getting there. In pure layman's terms; the female, when manifest on the screen creates a somewhat dangerous relationship with her viewer, presumably male. Meaning that she puts herself in a context in which she is desired, which at first light, one might assume the facade of being symbiotic, and actually healthy, but both argue that it is tricky territory because as the object of desire, the woman is both threatening in her symbolism of castration (Mulvey) and as the object of desire ignites caveman DNA in the male who wishes to possess her (Haskell). 

Ok with all that academic jargon out of the way, let's talk about Perry and Gaga. What's happening right now? They are both releasing new albums; Gaga has 'ArtPop' (which might be a nod to Warhol, I'm not sure) and Katy Perry has 'Prism', and both of their new singles suck I'm sorry but they do. So let's just objectify them and treat them for what they are, though both are innovative, they are both living gimmicks, let's just be honest. 

ArtPop single cover.

Here's the thing, I've watched Katy Perry's latest video for 'Roar' and my god was it the worst piece of shit ever. I don't even think she qualifies as being desirable on screen, except igniting my desire to be gone from it.But Katy Perry has always objectified herself by playing on words and gestures in order to keep innocence while maintaining a level of absolute sexual prowess. She's maintained a certain level of 'girlhood' while clearly being a sexually aware woman...kind of like Britney, but she's obnoxious with it and suggestively eats marshmallow pops and has fireworks shooting out of her tits like anyone is going to be turned on by that. 

Katy Perry in her single 'Roar'

Gaga on the other hand, has been such a chameleon it's really difficult to put her into a Mulvey or Haskell context, but probably easier with the former because of her androgyny and yet very clear acknowledgement of her womanhood. And before we go any further, Gaga had sparks flying out of her bra long before Katy Perry decided to do that so, nyah. Because she's clearly a woman but does not play coy, but plays exactly the opposite which is her strength and 'empowerment' she is more threatening to the male viewer because of that (unless of course you're in her little monster gay man fan base (of which I'm an honorary member)), thereby toying with both ends of the spectrum. She is threatening and desirable at the same time. Forget the meat dress, the cigarette sunglasses, all of the fashion LSD she's on; and think that for that she's actually ahead of the curve on this one, because a woman is always either one or the other. Also it doesn't help that her music are basically anthems for the LGBT community and that in her mid-20's she's accomplished more than it takes some a lifetime to do. Katy recently has been criticizing female pop-stars for being 'hyper-sexulaized' I'm assuming she's talking about Miley Cyrus naked writhing on a wrecking ball, but hey, until you stop performing with your comically over-sized boobs out and simulating fellatio on candy I'm going to keep calling you a hypocrite. I guess what I'm trying to say is I hate Katy Perry.
But then again I was never a huge fan of Gaga either (I had to pretend for my gay friends), but I would say like Christina Aguilera who is very much an original and a traleblazer in every sense of the world, she was likened to Gaga when she put out her 'Bionic' record, and hunnies she lost. Gaga built a protective shield around herself where her antics actually paid off, and she doesn't look no where near stopping, and even though she's probably already tried everything, that's what they said of Bowie after his Ziggy Stardust days were over and everyone said he was washed up.
I think what a huge difference is that Katy is always seemingly surrounded by guys who want to fuck her, while Gaga is surrounded by well...that, but also guys that want to embody her in a sense, that want to be 'castrated' as Mulvey would put it just so they can be fabulous for a few minutes and wear that sideways crown. 

If you want to read 'Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema' and I highly suggest you do, you can find it here: Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema

Below I'm putting two videos from each starlet that I think perfectly encapsulate their identities as pop stars and also as women: 

Sleeping Beauty; A Real Snoozefest

Classy whoredom.

I finally watched the Jane Campion produced Sleeping Beauty (2011) by first time director Julia Leigh and it was rather interesting if it wasn't so goddamn boring. I've been following this film for a while because it seemed bizarre, sexual, and Jane Campion had something to do with it, but it's the same old whore story, with a really sick twist. With that indie-film flare where people spend a lot of their time just walking without anything playing in the background, just to provide 'exposition' or as i like to call it 'time filler', Sleeping Beauty began to scare me after the first few scenes, kind of like the what the hell did I just get myself into scare. And yeah it turned out to be like Eyes Wide Shut (1999) on Xanax.
Lucy (Emily Browning) is a struggling student who supplements her income by being a guinea pig for a medical school and performing messy blow jobs for drunk Aussies in putrid upscale bars. One day she answers an ad in whatever Australia's version of The Pennysaver is (highly likely) for a strange kind of prostitution gig. It's of course very classy and the meticulously to match the insatiable appetite of their older and wealthy (probably) old money perverted clientele. There are weird dinner parties where all the men enjoy wine being poured to them by girls in bondage lengerie; just basically everything I once hoped and dreamed for myself, just kidding...or am I?

Lucy gets inspected for scars and moles. Yeah, I'd be annoyed too.

But what Lucy's particularly good at is sleeping. Let me explain. She drinks a special concoction that her pimp, a very classy older woman with a ridiculous Jean Paul-Gaultier in the 80's wardrobe and hairdo makes for her which I assume has a serious amount of tranquilizer in it, and that knocks her out. Then the Kubrick influence is prevalent again because we always cut to her in a room that I swear was designed after the dying room of Dr. David Bowman in 2001: A Space Odyssey (1969). She's lying there motionless in a dreamless sleep (hopefully) As an older naked man is able to do what ever he wants with her, except no penetration. One time an angry bastard puts his cigarette out in her ear, but you know, she's a whore so kind of goes with the territory, this happens for about 40 minutes of the film repeating itself and I'm praying I fall asleep myself and a young hot gentleman comes over and does stuff to me, instead of these old hairy somewhat aggressive and somewhat Uncle Fester meets Albert Brooks kind of men, but anyway I finally finished watching and there is a twist at the end, which almost makes this movie bearable but not really.

Cuddling but no fucking. It's a golden rule.

 It's a poor Freshman effort and you're better off skipping it. It's like an Ozon movie gone wrong. If it was directed by a Frenchie it probably would have been eons better. Now if you'll excuse me I have to watch something else that has been staring at me in my queue for ages; Whore's Glory (2012), wish me luck. 

Trailer below

Another Von Trier Sex Film? Um...I Guess.

Still from Nymphomaniac (2013)

Gratuitous and relentless painful sex is as likely to appear in a Lars Von Trier film as much as bare-knuckle boxing matches are likely to appear in a Guy Ritchie film, so brace yourself children for Nymphomaniac (2013).

Starring Charlotte Gainsbourg (who’s been in the two prior Von Trier films; Melancholia (2013) and AntiChrist (2009)) a dying self-proclaimed nympho retells of all his sexual experiences to anyone who would listen, but for the love of god why would they? I mean if Von Trier is involved I imagine every story has something to do with just a lot of blood and tears. Has sex in any Von Trier film ever been enjoyable or arousing to watch? It’s been torture, and not in the good way, but I think that is a creation of Von Trier unto itself. The displeasure of sex.

Hate to say it but it sounds very Breaking the Waves (1996) don’t it? Remember his first English language film? The one that was actually good and not polarizing? The one that was not art for art’s sake? The one before he made the incendiary statement that he sympathizes with Hitler?

Innocent small-town girl Emily Watson plays against Skarsgård (a man who's appetite for sex knows no bounds) and eventually leads to her demise.

Anyway, Breaking the Waves (1996) was a beautiful film starring Emily Watson and Stellan Skarsgård, who is in this one too apparently. It involves some kind of rig worker (Skarsgård,) who gets injured on a barge (or something I can’t remember) and becomes paralyzed form the neck down. He then forces his wife Watson using survivor’s guilt on her sorry ass to have sexual encounters with other men and then tell him all about it so that he can thereby vicariously experience them himself because his peen is more or less in the vault at that point.

So basically, this is not a film about sex, it’s a film about the stories we tell each other about all the sex we’ve had or hope to have, so kind of like a Danish existential bizarre-as-shit slumber party. I for one still haven’t forgiven Von Trier for his completely irresponsible comments at Cannes, but again looking at it from a filmmaking perspective, I have a love-hate relationship with him. His earlier Danish films don’t interest me much, and I never liked them. Then, he had a winning streak with Breaking the Waves (1996), Dancer in the Dark (2000), and Dogville (2003) (which he appropriately titled his ‘Death trilogy’) how Ingmar Bergman of you, Trier. But Antichrist (2009) is a film I flat out blocked out of my brain it was so profoundly idiotic. And Manderlay (2005)…let’s be honest, no one gave a shit about, or watched as far as I remember. 

Von Trier on the set of Melancholia (2011) with co-stars Kirsten Dunst and Charlotte Gainsbourg

Melancholia (2011) on the other hand was a revelation, it took me a couple of times (and a couple of friends, you know your names) to finally convince me that this was a great work of art, so based on his history, I’m going to say that I have faith in the project, but am expecting a widely mixed if not totally polarizing reaction from every festival it travels to this year (except Cannes considering he’s a persona non grata there and we all know why), but that’s exactly what he wants. No publicity is bad publicity is it Trier? Unless of course you’re defending Hitler. 

 Below some trailers.

Spotlight on: Sally Potter

Theatrical Poster for Potter's autobiographical film The Tango Lesson (1997)

Sally Potter could be the single most important contemporary filmmaker, yes more important than Mary Harron, yes more important than Jane Campion. Though not particularly prolific, her films are intensely philosophical and sexually provocative. She has a new film out in both Toronto as well as this years New York Film Festival slate called Ginger and Rosa (2012), which will probably be in line with a sub-genre she coined titled 'Naked Cinema' back in 2009 with the release of Rage.

Potter is a thinker's filmmaker, her most famous work to date being the incomparable story of an androgynous time-traveling rogue who also has the ability to change genders and charm beautiful aristocrats with his/her poetic talents. It was called Orlando (1992) and it made Tilda Swinton's career. The creative nature of the sexual content made me see cinematic sensuality in a completely different meditative light. It made me think about film on the same par as visual art for the first time, and encouraged me to appreciate aesthetic as a key aspect of the final product. 

Tilda Swinton as the titular character in Orlando (1992) A deeply haunting and unforgettable performance.

What Sally Potter is able to illustrate within the frame is fundamentally feminine. To be clear, I do not mean she is feminist because her work for the most part is devoid of a political ideology. What her first priority seems to be is to articulate human emotion, yearning, and desire visually rather than verbally, which is one of the fundamentals of film language. 

Still from her new film Ginger and Rosa (2012)

Why I say that she is perhaps the most important female filmmaker is because of her mastering of the art of the female gaze. Her approach towards sexuality on film is inherently a feminine approach. She is an auteur in that she has a very unique style and sensibility, especially when it comes to anything intimate. Therefore she is a master of her craft, whether it be cinema, philosophy, aesthetic, or sexual pastiche. And I always get titillated when a new film of hers is released. If you're in New York, I highly recommend buying a ticket to Ginger and Rosa (2012), it's the most intriguing film in the whole slate.

Below, some video on her films: 

It's a Boy For Snooki....And We're All Forced to Imagine Her Lady Parts

I just can't, the jokes are just welling up in my mind until it drips cranial fluid through my ears, and everything is going dark. But yes, as In Touch, who has always been at the vanguard of entertainment reporting  broke 3 days ago, Snooki is indeed pregnant not with a drunk, sunburnt, greasy, and brain-damaged minion of the anti-christ but a completely human male. 

By the time Snooki delivers though it will be just right around that time that the Mayan calendar predicts the world will end, so maybe this is all just part of the ploy, I'm not sure. But another thing that is giving me an aneurism is wondering just what the fuckballs will it look like. Sorry him, not it...have to remember that from now on. 

But hey, Francis Bean Cobain ended up relatively normal and sans any lasting problems except for the inherited addiction to opiates, anger problems, and bipolar disorder, so good luck to her in the future. What most of us are actually thinking, aside from how easy it is going to be for this baby to walk right out of Snooki's labyrinthine venus fly-trap of a vagina, is how in holy hell is this kid ever going to have a normal life. 

But perhaps we're under-estimating her and her mothering skills will be slightly above Joan Crawford's. Perhaps she won't spray tan him right away, and give time for his milk teeth to come in before giving him his first shot of Jose Cuervo. All I can picture is just how loud it must be for that boy inside a velvetty cocoon of insullary noise. I wonder if that's the most gross thing I've said so far...probably not. But if you haven't started bleeding from the eyes just yet, keep reading. Don't worry it get's worse. 

But don't blame me, the idea of having to look down the barrel of Snooki's vagina and deliver her child is something every OBGYN dreads with the shudder of a thousand goosebumps, probably enough to give up their practice if it came down to it. I can only imagine it's something reminiscent of the film Alien (1979) and I'll let you figure out which scene I'm referring to. 

But think of it this way, Snooki's prenatal team: this is a service to science that you're doing, and your names will always be remembered, at least in the Twitter-verse. So let's just all brace ourselves and say a silent prayer like we've been since we found out this momentous house-upside-down news that Snooki is not drinking...as much...during her pregnancy. But I have a sneaking suspicion that when Jionni-Mario-Paulo-Guisseppe-Joey-Fettucini-Canoli starts to crown, the head doctor in charge will turn his head ask 'ok, who's smoking in here!?'

Here are some clips of the wonder that is Snooki. Start feeling genuinely sorry for this kid, especially when he reaches cognitive consciousness.