Never Seen It #344: House Party

Yeah, I did it, I watched 500 movies I've never seen before, I might cry two tears in a bucket. Fuck it. Let's take it to the blog.

House Party

1990

Reginald Hudlin

Thanks to all those who watched House Party and shared their thoughts! Check them out below, and meet us in the comments to discuss some more.

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Sunny

How much more can one say about a movie wherein the climactic scene has the hero freestyle rapping to avoid being anally raped in a county jail holding cell by some big big guys? Riveting, groundbreaking, and fiercely unapologetic (except about a handful of things, like drugs, alcohol, and teenage pregnancy, that it's pretty apologetic about), House Party captures a real youth moment and the greater culture surrounding it. This is a culture I have never been a part of, and I leave this tale really with as many questions as answers. That said, I also yukked it up at several scenes and gags, some of the character bits are good (Martin Lawrence is here! Tisha Campbell is here! The late great John Witherspoon is here!), and we clock in at 100 min. What a strange ride 2.5/5

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Sam

We've watched several African American boys coming-of-age stories in this project (Juice, Cooley High, Love & Basketball), and this is playing in the same sandbox. But the calibration on seriousness v. fun here tips way in the favor of fun and results in an iconic romp.

That's not to say that House Party fails to grapple with real problems. Race-based policing, red-lining in housing, cyclical neighborhood violence, and general economic inequality are dealt with. As are combating stereotypes—note the (cranky) but positive male Black father figures, the booksmart Christopher, and the apparent chastity and social responsibility around sex. But that's against a backdrop to jokes about bad breath, whacky haircuts, and cranky neighbors. 

The "one crazy night" set-up works well just to get everyone moving. And that's a vehicle for Kid and Play (credited as an entity!) to have a pretty OK rap battle as well as a very awesome dance battle with Tisha Campbell and A.J. Johnson. That dance scene was the highlight of the movie for me and really captures a moment in time.

It was also funny to see Martin Lawrence and Campbell in the same movie but not as a couple. We'd have to wait a few years for Bilal to find his Gina.

My critique is that the film is a little too basic—not a lot really happens. And the actual actors are way better than Kid 'n Play. But I like fun. So I'll give it 4 eraserheads out of 5.

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Allison

House Party is one of those films that was on Comedy Central all the time in the '90s and '00s, but I never stopped to watch it. I was expecting something in the vein of Porky's or Revenge of the Nerds—a raunchy, heavy-handed comedy aimed at boys that made me roll my eyes. Instead, House Party was surprisingly chaste for a rated-R teen (and we're using that term incredibly loosely) comedy. No nudity, no sexual hijinks, no explicit drug use, and only one person at the titular house party gets drunk. And it's a guy. And they take care of him and make sure he gets home alright. Wholesome! Another notably touching moment is Kid's exchange at the end with Play and Bilal about consent and contraception. Unexpected but oddly poignant. And incredibly timely and relevant, as the AIDS crisis disproportionately affected the black community. Message!

Other things I enjoyed:

• The dancing! Kid 'n Play may not be exactly strong leading men, but they put on a good show.
• Tisha Campbell. No further comment.
• The very beefy bullies played by the hip-hop group Full Force. They swung wildly between silly hapless goons and would-be arsonists, but that was fun. You couldn't tell if they were going to give you a wedgie or full-on murder you. I loved the look of the cut-off sweatshirt.
• The way Sydney's dad called the cops "fascists." A brief thought on the police presence in the film. They didn't wield much control in the community despite being ever-present. They were mostly a nuisance.  

What I could have done without:

• The homophobic anti-gang-rape rap scene that I don't care to write about.

In the end, I was mostly entertained, but it wasn't really that funny, and it struggled to hold my attention. I think I needed more hijinks.

2.5 servings of Dick Gregory

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Chelsea

Something to know about me: the only thing I love more than a dance-off is a rap battle. Needless to say, I was utterly charmed by this film. 

This movie is So. Much. Fun. The pace and plot are kind of loose and feel almost improvisational, and the film manages to balance about a dozen supporting characters so deftly that it has a little bit of a Diet Altman vibe. For me, it's an instant classic (if such a thing can be said about a 36-year-old movie) of the teen party genre, movies which tend to be excellent time capsules in a way few other genres are, for better and worse. (There are some R-bombs and F-slurs, but also my god, THE OUTFITS. Sharane is an icon.) There are so many absolutely bonkers quotable lines; I wrote down about twelve in the first 20 minutes before I gave up, but suffice to say from now on I will be using "Aw man, my rhymes!" any time I lose or forget something.

Robin Harris (who unforgettably played Sweet Dick Willy in Do the Right Thing the year prior) is a stone cold delight as Kid's dad. Sometimes the whole movie would kind of halt just to cut to him doing something unrelated (like fixing a fan) because everything out of his mouth was ridiculous. (Sad trivia fact: this movie came out nine days before he passed away. R.I.P. to a legend.) There are some real charismatic standouts here in Martin Lawrence, Tisha Campbell (they would later be reunited on Martin!), and Daryl "Chill" Miller (who would go on to play the English teacher in 10 Things I Hate About You, arguably a teen party classic in its own right). And George Clinton's cameo as a DJ is absolute perfection. 

All that said, it's not a perfect movie by any means. There are some pretty unusual editing choices, and Kid's performance vacillates between awkward/charming and awkward/very strange (although his rhymes are indeed excellent). And of course, there is the incredibly weird rap interlude during which Kid uses his rhymes to... distract a group of hardened criminals from gang raping him in a local jail's holding cell? Such a bizarre tonal misstep and also very very silly ("we're gonna tie your fade into a ponytail" raps one of the criminals during the number). Fortunately, the power of rap prevails and Kid escapes unharmed, leaving us all to collectively wonder what the hell we just watched. 

However, in spite of that absolutely unhinged moment, I was completely won over by the end. It has a scrappy, good-natured, freestyle energy (befitting a movie about aspiring rappers) that I found pretty irresistible. I'll say 3.5 out of 5 stars (an extra half star for dousing Reagan's portrait in Jell-O in the opening food fight scene) and leave you with one of my favorite zingers from the film: "Go home and bring me two bean pies and a pork chop sandwich, you little trout-mouthed heathen!" 

Thanks again for introducing me to this one! Such a blast!

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Joe

I know the Linklater film isn't until next week, but I did feel that some of his best films (Dazed and Confused, Everybody Wants Some!!) shared a kinship with House Party in one specific way. Yes, the plot involved kids and parties and young love and all that stuff, but the crucial similarity I saw was the way that the stakes were purposefully lowered to create realism. In the same way that the keg at the Moontower ended simply because there was no more beer, the titular party of House Party ended because the home's upstairs toilet wasn't working anymore. A lesser movie would've allowed the bullies to burn down the house. (In fact, it can probably be seen as a meta-commentary on the "teen party" subgenre, that the other bullies didn't like the fire plan and were like "yo, that's going way too far.")

The realism worked in both directions. The drama felt very grounded and real, but the potential heartfelt moments were held at bay as well, because they similarly would've felt too exaggerated. Like, okay, I have been primed to expect, after so many other movies of this ilk, that Kid was going to get home and have a genuine heart-to-heart with his father, about growing up and responsibilities and the love they share despite their differences. Instead, his dad has a belt, and the ending credits roll as Kid gets corporally punished. That felt was more realistic! No teen is breaking that many household rules and then sneaking back home in the middle of the night to be met with a heartfelt moment. That only happens in the movies!

If we are making the argument that this was a great movie because of how real it felt, then we need to acknowledge how discomforting the racial tension and violence was throughout. I felt it particularly in two scenes. The first was when Kid and the bullies were being held by the white cops at gunpoint, and the victims of Kid's hijinks refused to press charges, because they knew exactly what that would entail for the youngsters ("they need discipline, not solitary confinement!"). The second was when those same white cops caught the bullies trying to start a fire, and... took them down to the docks to beat the shit out of them? I felt like the party guests in the aftermath of that. They need discipline, not illegal assaults by a bunch of fucking cops!

But my point here is that it's been noted by many people who were young and Black in the late '80s and early '90s that House Party was an accurate representation of their lived experience at that time (for example, Philadelphia 76er Lebron James, who produced the 2023 remake based on how much he and his friends loved the original back in the day), and if that's true, then there are some pretty heinous societal injustices that are being noted as accurate. I don't think anyone watching the film has a responsibility to take action based on what you see here. It's not that kind of movie. The responsibility is only to acknowledge that this movie is the truth, in incredible ways and horrific ways.

Mostly incredible ways, though. As someone who used to throw house parties all the time, I saw so much of my former self in Play. House parties were not how they are portrayed in teen comedies. The house is never destroyed. You're not grappling over the fact that your mother's precious heirloom was shattered on the ground and you're gonna be "so dead" when they get home. Teens, by and large, are not assholes. They're just trying to have a nice time at a party. No one is malicious, and if they are, you just don't let them in, simple as that. Play had the trust in his friends needed to throw this house party successfully. One friend got a little too drunk, but he got home safely. Kid's dad showed up and stopped the party briefly with some quips, but then he left and the party continued. The toilet broke, and Play was upset, but let's be real, it was most likely an accident, and he's easily gonna fix that thing before his parents return.

I loved the way that the movie refused to kowtow to the hyperbole that this genre of film typically calls for. It was more relatable, and it was certainly more enjoyable. I just think it's rare when a movie upends expectations by underplaying it. By portraying the type of shit I used to see all the time back in the day, the film ends up showing the type of shit that I very rarely see accurately portrayed in movies. Even the interpersonal drama felt so fucking low-key and thus accurate. There was mild drama between Sydney and Sharane, over who was going to hook up with Kid. Sharane said that Sydney could have him if she was able to hook up with him on the walk home. When Sydney does just that, and tells Sharane, Sydney gives her this perfect look that says "you said you weren't gonna start shit, so are you gonna start shit or what?" And then Sharane sighs and admits defeat and solidifies the friendship and avoids all the maudlin eyeroll-worthy teen drama that would typically spawn from here in a much worse movie.

Two moments broke this rule of groundedness. I understand why both of them exist—because this movie is starring the '80s rap duo Kid 'n Play, of course you're gonna have them perform in the movie. Only one of the two in-movie performances was successful though. The rap and dance sequence at the party itself was joyful, and, though less believable than the rest of the occurrences at the teen house party, it still maintained the air of innocence that pervades the entire film. Just two friends having fun and goofing off! The other one was the song about prison rape. Much less enjoyable, and probably the only part of the film that has aged poorly. I'm coping by pretending that this is a fantasy sequence in the warped mind of a dumbass teenager.

Oh, and I wasn't a huge fan of the mid-credits sequence with the racist cops meeting their demise. Not that they didn't deserve it, and not that contemporaneous audiences didn't earn some payoff with that real and ugly strain of racism they had to endure from these white cops. It still felt out of place. It was very purposefully not real (the roof that is blown off the house in the opening credits is the thing that lands on them), which goes against everything that makes House Party an amazingly real film in the first place.

I'm not too concerned. I'm walking away from this movie knowing full well why it's considered a classic. I consider it a classic now too. House parties happen all the time, and it's so rare that they are shown with any sort of accuracy in a movie. House Party nailed it.

GRADE: 4 pukes out of 5

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Sean G.

I watched House Party and had a LOT of fun with it. Not gonna get you a proper review, I had to leave town. But I’ll give you a score. Make it 4 pukes. I really enjoyed it. Worth linking to this Criterion write-up in the comments or along with my score.

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GROUP AVERAGE GRADE: 3.417 pukes out of 5

Grab all your DJing equipment and meet us in the comments!

(NEXT TIME: Joe and Sunny discuss Fiddler on the Roof for a very special reason.)

Never Seen It #343: Candyman

The blog, I can assure you, will be exquisite. As for our attempt to watch 500 movies we've never seen before, there is nothing to fear. Our names will be written on a thousand walls. Our crimes told and retold by our faithful believers. We shall die together in front of their very eyes and give them something to be haunted by. Come with me and be immortal.

Candyman

1992

Bernard Rose

Zoom: October 21, 2026, 9 PM to 10 PM

Participants: Allison, Bobby, Brianna, Joe, Sam

Alright, so here's what happens in Candyman (as it was solidified in my brain, mid-Zoom). Helen is doing her research on urban legends. She is intrigued by one in particular. Then she finds out that there is a community near her that actually believes in this legend, and who are attributing real crimes to the supernatural being of Candyman. She does her due diligence and investigates. She goes to the building where he's supposedly killed. She runs across a gang leader who attacks her. She is traumatized. After she is traumatized, she has a nervous breakdown, and, during blackouts, starts to act violently toward others. She beheads a dog, steals a baby, then kills her friend, kills her psychiatrist, and so on. All the time attributing it to Candyman, who she can see now. She, in her trauma, is attributing these real crimes to a supernatural being, same as those who have been traumatized by severe poverty. In the end, she overcomes the adversity of her trauma, and saves the baby. She keeps the legend alive, because the legend is a balm for this community. They pay tribute to her sacrifice at her funeral.

Now, whether you want to view the movie like this is up to you. If you want to view it as a movie about a horror movie villain who kills and frames the protagonist, that's your right. But if you view it that way, you might find a worse movie. An illogical movie. That's what the Zoom discussion ended up being, a discussion about whether this movie made sense. Which is a good thing to talk about! If a movie doesn't make sense, then it's not going to be an enjoyable experience! So maybe my theory about Candyman being not real within the framework of the movie but instead a symptom of Helen's traumatic break, maybe that is just my way of dealing with the trauma of a bad film. I don't know! But, within my own trauma, I am imagining that I liked this movie a lot.

Some other thoughts that we discussed:

• Was it scary? Is scariness the way we judge horror movies? The quantity and quality of jump scares, etc.?
• Was the acting good? Tony Todd was "doing a lot with a little"
• Comparisons to Hellraiser were apt, in terms of what "internal logic" means in horror films
• Allison pointed out the opening lines ("They will say that I have shed innocent blood. What's blood for if not for shedding? With my hook for a hand, I'll split you from your groin to your gullet. I came for you.") and how the first half "hooks" you, and the second half is silly.
• Would it have been more logical to have Candyman's origin story closer to the community that is spotlighted in the narrative?
• This is a story about stories, about a storyteller whose story becomes her.
• Trevor! The infidelity subplot is silly and/or stupid.
• The VHS cover with the bees was evocative, multiple people remember this cover from Blockbuster days (I specifically remember seeing it at Pathmark's video rental section)
• Source material took place in Liverpool, this takes place in Chicago—missing our Chicago friends for this discussion!
• There are multiple sequels, and the 2021 film is NOT a remake, but a direct sequel (screenplay by Jordan Peele)
• There is lasting imagery here, including the bees (the actor actually put the bees in his mouth)
• Is the character of Candyman iconic? You don't see kids dressed up like him for Halloween, simply because you can't (no mask), which might hurt its commercial appeal?
• Do we care about the protagonist?

I'm arguing that we do, but maybe that's because I'm particularly drawn to the idea of storytelling, of urban legends, of talking to people as a profession, that sort of thing. I felt a kinship with the type of person who is going to follow a lead and go talk to people who are living an experience that you are fascinated by. Let's not go to heavy on the score, but I think I'm comfortable with at least a 3.5 pukes out of 5 on this one. A lot to talk about, and, as a storyteller, that drew me to this film's story.

How about you? What did you think? If you weren't at the Zoom, let's chat about it in the comments!

(NEXT TIME: Our first small group of Film Club Q7 takes us to the House Party.)

Never Seen It #338: Bodies Bodies Bodies

"My mom has a blog." "Oh, my god. I'm so sorry, that's really serious. Mental health is a really serious issue. I mean I've never actually said this to anyone but... I am watching 500 movies I've never seen before." "Oh, my god! Shut the fuck up!"

Bodies Bodies Bodies

2022

Halina Reijn

Thanks to all those who watched a movie and wrote about it! See our thoughts on this most recent movie below.

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Kait

I don't have too much to say about this movie other than I enjoyed it. I liked the fun twist on a classic whodunnit. There was some satire and jokes that made me laugh out loud. I particularly enjoyed them grilling Alice about her two-week "boyfriend" and how they all assumed "vet" meant war veteran. I did find myself a bit bored at times, and I don't know much about Gen Z or all the chatter about different generations, but I imagine this movie was saying things about that. Overall, good fun.  

Oh, and then I found this trivia on IMDB and had to share because I think this pretty perfectly sums up the movie: 

Amandla Stenberg (who played Sophie) sent a direct message to New York Times film critic Lena Wilson via social media following the publication of Wilson's review for Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022). The message responded to Wilson's characterization of the film as a "95-minute advertisement for cleavage." Amandla Stenberg wrote, "Ur review was great, maybe if you had gotten your eyes off my tits you could've watched the movie."

3 pukes

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Sam

Sorry, I'm trying to get this on paper quickly because I forgot about it. Getting to Joe after deadline won't make it any more coherent, but I want to finish this up before I have to put my child to bed. (I also want to included in the review.) 

In general, I tend to cut artists around the same age as me more slack. I usually get their references, I understand the cultural background in which they are commenting upon, and our senses of humor align. Additionally, I really like murder mysteries. Those two elements should have pushed this over the top and created an all-time Sam-pleasing movie. 

And it was not the case! I guess I'm slightly older than the people in this film, so the difference between me and them created enough of a chasm for me to be annoyed rather than relate to the jokes at their expense. I also didn't quite care enough about the final girl to root her on. 

That said, the twist did really work on me. It might've even justified and excused the plotting and irrational actions of the characters. Maybe that would shine through more clearly on a rewatch. 

3 pukes 

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Allison

A dark horror comedy written and directed by women where all the men die in the first 30 minutes? I can't explain how badly I needed this. The movie is fun, and I had fun watching it. I'm not a huge horror fan; I like spooky, but I don't like jump scares, and Bodies Bodies Bodies struck a nice balance.

Other thoughts:

• That cast was good, but are we done with Pete Davidson now? Can we be? I would have liked more Lee Pace.
• The use of light was very effective, with most of the film lit by ambient light and cell phones. The film plays up that feeling that you get when you shut the lights off and have to run up the stairs before something gets you.
• The film keeps you guessing like a drug-fueled Agatha Christie novel. It remains clever while telling you exactly what it's doing. "Playing Bodies Bodies Bodies [the game] is a bad idea, because we always end up crying."
• I don't know why Circle Slap was a part of the game, but I'm glad it was. Sometimes I miss my twenties.
• I know Azealia Banks is pretty problematic, but my god, "212" is such a great track. Sometimes I really miss my twenties.
• A few issues: Everyone's phone was charged enough to last the night? Jordan has a headlamp, Greg has a go-bag, but they don't have enough handheld flashlights? Was that little mirror light really enough to drain the car battery?
• The reveal at the end, showing Pete Davidson dying in the most Pete Davidson way, is silly and satisfying. It is truly the only logical explanation. These friends were toxic backstabbers, but not literally. Until, you know, they were...

4/5 Bodies

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Gary

This movie proves that TikTok will kill us all. 

And Then There Were None is my favorite book. I've read it probably a dozen times. And I can't help but think that this movie was based off the same concept. 

SPOILERS AHEAD.  

I want to start at the end. As someone who is obsessed with horror movies, this was an ending I actually didn't see coming. I always have a running theory that the person in most horror movies that the audience is supposed to see as the victim is really the killer. So I fully expected that to be the case. 

The acting in this is probably the worst part. Maybe the writing. Wait. Definitely the writing. As I said, the ending was surprisingly spectacular. But there were so many things that just didn't add up. And I probably just overanalyzed an absolutely bonkers horror/comedy. But things just didn't make sense. 

Why were they so trusting of certain people and not of people they knew for years and years? The fact that multiple times when someone died, who they supposedly knew for years, some of them didn't even care. The fact that Pete Davidson may somehow have been the best actor of everyone. And that's saying something. How much drugs and alcohol can someone take in one day and not pass out? 

To that last point, Jesus Christ. I get it. Everyone, outside of the guy, is supposed to be in their mid-to-late 20s. But they just KEEP doing shots and lines. And everyone just kind of walks around like everything is cool. Xanax for shits and giggles after ten shots and a few lines? Why not? 

I know. That's not the point. But it was pretty ridiculous that the only result of any of this was really just Pete Davidson biting his girlfriend's lips. 

Obviously, paranoia came into play. But it just felt a little nuts. 

Having said all that, I surprisingly loved this movie. It's like a crunch wrap supreme. A fantastic idea, great execution, awful acting, and terrible writing. 

3.5 likes and subscribes out of 5

Helpful hint: if you enjoyed this movie in any way, highly suggest watching It's What's Inside on Netflix.

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Joe

This was one of the funniest movies I've seen in a while, which is NOT the reaction I would've expected. In fact, we originally queued it up because Pam was itching to watch a scary movie ('tis the season), and, without knowing anything about this movie (besides Slayyyter's place on the soundtrack, more on this in a second), I would've totally assumed it was a horror movie. It's more of a murder mystery, but even that mystery has a punchline that I was delighted that I did not see coming. Interesting to watch this back-to-back with In the Heat of the Night, since I walk away from both with the same takeaway: though there is a murder and people are trying to solve it, the murder and its solving are so totally besides the point.

Okay, so what was "the point"? I was originally saying that the point was that it was a who-done-it with a twist, that they spent the movie trying to figure out who the killer was and it ended up that there wasn't a killer at all. But I read that this was a late change in the script, and originally there was a killer, so I'm hesitant to say that this was the point. Though it is cool, I'll admit. It says something about how we are so conditioned to believe that there are nefarious forces outside of our control that are motivated to bring about our downfall, but in reality, it's really our own flaws and our own choices that will bring about our own demise. Either that, or it was just really fucking satisfying to see Punchable Face Pete Davidson cut his own throat with a samurai sword.

No, I think the "point" is more to poke fun at a certain type of person. I don't want to say "Gen Z" because it's not that simple. I think it's more accurate to say "terminally online people." I understand that the Venn diagram between the two sets of the population has a very large overlapping middle section, but it would be unfair to leave out my millennial peers, who are often just as "online" as people younger. It's something to do with an age thing regardless, because of the humor involved here. It moves quickly, the comedy, which I'd classify as a "newer comedy" or "younger comedy" thing. The punchlines are zippy, and many of them have to do with themes that feel younger. Like this quip, as an example: "David was a dick, but his politics check out." Something felt very true (and thus hilarious) about the idea that, even in the midst of a supposed murder mystery, someone would be concerned about a peer's politics.

I'm not saying that Bodies Bodies Bodies is reinventing the wheel here. There are comparisons to be made to other movies from recently or from long ago—my favorite was Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, a classic in the genre of "get people in a room together and let 'em verbally duke it out." What this specific film brings to the table is sense of style (fascinating to spend so much of this movie without the lights on) and sense of place (only people my age and younger could come up with an idea as dumb as "hurricane party"—yes, I've been to one before). And an extremely sharp sense of humor.

As sort of a postscript: what to make of how we got here? I don't think I would've heard of this movie (nor subsequently placed it on a list of films I've never seen before) had it not been for the pinpointing of Slayyyter as part of this film's world. I think if the hook is gonna be "kids these days!", then there's really no better choice than Slayyyter. As I said above, it's not that Bodies Bodies Bodies is a fresh idea, it's more that it takes existing ideas and blends them up in extremely novel ways. That's basically what Slayyyter does too. She's taking all the sounds that you might (credibly or not) describe as "iPod music" from whatever time period that is (mid-to-late-aughts, I guess?), and making them feel fresh and new. There is no such thing as completely original at this point, but if you twist something skillfully enough, you can make something that feels original anyway. I am convinced enough to call Bodies Bodies Bodies one of the more original movies I've seen in quite some time.

GRADE: 4 pukes out of 5

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GROUP AVERAGE GRADE: 3.5 pukes out of 5

Video record yourself attempting to cut open a champagne bottle with a sword in the comments below!

(NEXT TIME: We do a quick little week full of movies that share a theme of "transportation," starting with the immortal Snakes on a Plane.)

Never Seen It #330: Pink Flamingos

Oh, I love you, blog. I love you more than anything in this whole world. I love you more than my own filthiness, more than my own hair color. Oh God, I love you more than the sound of bones breaking, the 500 movies I've never seen before, the sound of death rattle—even more than the sound of my own shit do I love you, blog.

Pink Flamingos

1972

John Waters

Zoom: August 25, 2026, 9 PM to 10 PM

Participants: Joe, Sam, Stef

The smallest Zoom so far, for perhaps the smallest movie. Smallest movie in terms of, I dunno, production and budget and scope of the world that it built. But a pretty big movie in terms of impact, I'd argue. Pink Flamingos is a cult film, to start, so it gradually built up notoriety and reputation. It's now considered—generally, not universally—to be good art, so much so that it's sometimes—not universally, but sometimes—considered one of the best movies of all time. That's not because it's easy to watch. That's because it's interesting to watch. It's saying something, and it makes you feel something. What the "something" is might be up to you, or you could just whittle it down simply to "shock value." Regardless, c'mon, it's interesting. You can't deny that. From there, we're just gonna have to try to agree one whether interesting movies are good because they are interesting, even if they are also horrifying.

Some more thoughts we had during our discussion:

• Some comparisons that were discussed: Yoko Ono, The Room, Alice in Wonderland porn parody, Scary Movie, The Blair Witch Project, Looney Toons, Jackass (meet me in the comments if you want to know why these were compared/contrasted)
• Was this funny? Was it supposed to be?
• Funny parts: the mailing address and fight with mailman; the discussion about whether all chickens might disappear
• The Edie stuff was actually quite sweet, or maybe just in comparison to the rest of the film
• Interesting how the "filthiness" kept getting more and more intense
• When was the last time you felt while watching a movie what you felt while watching this movie?
• The logistics of killing a chicken on camera; how this felt dangerous because the actors were really doing these things!
• So many Baltimore accents!
• I made a big point about how flashing one's dick would be boring but flashing one's dick with deli meats tied to one's dick is INSPIRED (I'm talking about moviemaking, not the actually act, you sicko!!!)
• Tied for #211 on BFI Sight and Sound's Best Movies of All-Time list from 2022, tied with such movies as Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Deer Hunter, All About Eve, Brief Encounter
• The actors are committed, this is an actor showcase basically
• Context is important to understanding this film.
• What does this film mean to the queer community?
• Is abject art still art?
• Is Divine a character, an actor, or both? (Probably both.)

I missed writing down a lot of discussion points, but this felt like a good movie to talk about in general. A lot happening, and most of it is weird, and most of it is discomforting. And it's important to talk about your feelings, especially in this context, and "I felt uncomfortable" is a surprisingly easy one to talk about.

Your conclusion is going to come down to whether you agree with the following statement: "A good movie makes you feel something." If that's enough, then you'd agree Pink Flamingos was a good movie. I'm in that camp. I'm giving it 4 pukes out of 5. I have a strong suspicion that Stef and Sam would not agree with this grade.

How about you? What grade would you give this? Or would you be like Roger Ebert, refusing to even assign a grade, so shocked were you that this movie could even exist in our world?

(NEXT TIME: A small group gets together to watch A Knight's Tale, which I know has Heath Ledger, and that's about it.)

Never Seen It #329: Barton Fink

Sure you could and yet many bloggers do everything in their power to insulate themselves from the common man, from where they live, from where they trade, from 500 movies they've never seen before, from where they fight and love and converse and... and... So naturally their work suffers and regresses into empty formalism and... well, I'm spouting off again, but to put it in your language, the theatre becomes as phony as a three-dollar bill.

Barton Fink

1991

The Coen Brothers

Our resident 30-something-years-old sometimes-blogger Sam has chosen this Coen brothers flick for his "already seen it" FC choice this go-around. Sam participated in the Blood Simple Zoom a few months ago, so we both knew that it would be fun to slip back into that Coen brothers mindset. Their films more often than not have a similar feel to them. I'm not saying they are all "the same," not in any sense of the word. I just feel like they all sort of lean on the surreal lightheartedness mixed in with serious drama, good character acting that features bizarre quirks, that sort of thing. Barton Fink was like that too, and I appreciated it. I also think that there is more here than some of the Coen brothers movies that I've seen, so let's dig into it. Sam, what say you about this film?

"What are the limitations for a film that is writing about writing? The movie also grapples with the common man. At some point writers are not the common man, and writing about writing is honest to their lived in experience. How do you make that compelling?"

Not sure if that final question is supposed to imply that Barton Fink was not compelling in this specific way, because it is. I would answer that question in this way: do what Barton Fink does.

Would I consider myself a "writer"? It depends on how I'm feeling that day. I usually view "writers" as those who consider writing "what they do," like their main purpose in this life. I considering writing "something I do," which is far enough away a definition for me to balk at the idea of me being a "writer." But I'm literally writing these words right now, so what the fuck do I know?

Hmmm, how do I make this compelling? To write about writers writing about writing? I could do what this movie does, and sort of be self-deprecating about it. I liked how we're initially meant to think of Barton as a good writer, but the movie never actually confirms that. Note how everyone who reads the script he writes during his eureka moment is quick to say it sucks. That could be because a cop and a film producer are fucking philistines, but it could also be because the movie doesn't want you to land too firmly on the idea that Barton Fink is anything special.

I also liked how Barton was, at times, not very humble. I think he is unsure of his work and as his status as a writer, but I also think that he believes in his high ideals when it comes to writing, and that that confidence plays as him being full of himself sometimes. I'm talking mainly about the scenes when Barton is explaining to Charlie about the common man, and how Charlie keeps trying to be a common man to Barton, but Barton continuously cuts him off. Barton believes that what he's saying is smart, and he believes that it is right, but at no point does he actually attempt to do what he's claiming he's all about. He's unable to connect to the common man. Eventually, he does connect with Charlie, but even then, it's revealed that Charlie is, uh, not actually a "common man" either.

I think I've always viewed humility and self-deprecation as true values as a writer, and as an artist. If you think that something you've done is the best thing you've ever done, then that self-image devalues the art. If you are hard on yourself and think that even your best work is not up to snuff, then it becomes special when other people disagree with you and actually like your work. If someone asked me (a person who is, again, not a writer) what the best thing I ever wrote is, I would have a tough time saying. Because it's all shit. Am I saying that I believe not a single person has ever appreciated anything that I've ever written in my life? No, I'll acknowledge that there have been some people, no doubt unmedicated, who have expressed interest in reading something I've written. But if I believed that, then it would suck the artistry out of it, I think.

Maybe that's what we're looking for when it comes to "limitations of writing about writing." Had Barton Fink been more grounded, more understated in his writing pursuits, less quirky and cringey, then that would have been boring, right? So you make him a movie character who is a writer but you never say whether he is actually a good writer, you make him have all these high ideals about the art of writing but immediately undercut them, you make him incredibly flawed in other ways, you put him in surreal situations that you're not even sure are real (e.g. the hotel burning). You have him grapple, internally, with his art. Is that a bird dying at the end? Is this symbolism for his hopes and dreams about his career as a writer? Does the fact that I'm even asking the question this way prove that the Coen brothers made this shit compelling?

I definitely agree with the fact that writing is easiest when you're writing from lived experience. I know that about myself, that I find it so much easier to write something if I'm basing it on my own life. I've also always viewed that as a flaw, as an "easy way out," but maybe Barton Fink presents a different way of looking at it. The Coen brothers apparently wrote this script right in the middle of writing the script for Miller's Crossing (which I've never seen, please no spoilers), because Miller's Crossing was giving them headaches (apparently it is a complex plot, again please no spoilers), and they needed to just let loose and write. Which tells me that writing about writing is way easier than writing about [whatever Miller's Crossing is about]. 

And I guess you're right, Sam, in that "writing" is not something for the common man. I've tried to get all kinds of nurses and lawyers and office drones to regularly write for this blog, with very little success, and the constant refrain is "I'm not a writer." I believe that everyone is a writer, but in order for someone to write, they have to believe it for themselves too, which doesn't often happen. I wonder if Charlie Meadows a.k.a. Karl "Madman" Mundt would ever consider himself to be a writer, if he gave it a try. He did say that he "had some stories." Isn't that compelling, what those stories ended up being? I mean, I guess it depends on what you consider a compelling story, either within the movie of the movie itself as a story...

But now I'm getting off-track here. Let's try to narrow it down to this. What is a writer? A writer is someone who sees a story and does their damnedest to tell that story. Could a non-writer write this movie? Probably (a non-wrestler was attempting to write a wrestling movie, after all). But could a non-writer be compelled by the end of this movie, and what it means? If you don't give a shit about stories, then you might be nonplussed as what happens with the fire and the beach and the woman. If you care, then you're going to appreciate what Barton Fink was trying to say, even if the answers are not quite there. Because if you care, that means you're a writer, and you see stories, and you think about stories, enough that you might want to write one of your own one day.

I apologize if I didn't answer the questions in the right way. I can revise my thoughts in the comments if need be. I have a deadline.

GRADE: 4 pukes out of 5

Sam went above and beyond and sent me a write-up as well! So here's what he had to say:

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Sam

I love the way the Coens can wind me up. The set-up here involves premise catnip for me: writers, elegant period piece, long ornate hallways, actors I know and love, and a little murder. But possibly like a Barton Fink screenplay, it's a little fruity without actually saying anything.

Is this movie just a send-up of pompous writers? Hollywood producers? Intellectuals writ large? Or is it a handful of high-minded ideas slapped together in a fairly incoherent, magical realism plot?

This was not my first rodeo with this film, and my memory was one of disappointment. That emptiness maintained on rewatch. Individual scenes were a lot of fun—Steve Buscemi signing Tuturro in, Tony Shalhoub chewing a lot of scenery, and most of the John Goodman ones. But the individual moments were to stretch us along whatever journey Barton is supposed to endure. But I never cared for him—if he failed as a screenwriter or was fingered for a murder he didn't commit—none of it mattered to me. Ultimately, I rooted more for the alleged serial killer played by Goodman. Maybe that's intentional, or maybe that's a failing on my part.

Either way, the parts exceeded the sum of the total. Totally fine but disappointing nonetheless. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

NEXT TIME: We're getting together on Tuesday night to discuss Pink Flamingos! Be there!

Never Seen It #324: Juice

You know what? When you said that last time, I was kinda trippin', right? But now—you're right. I am crazy. But, you know what else? I don't give a fuck. I don't give a fuck about blogs. I don't give a fuck about Puke on Your Birthday. I don't give a fuck about watching 500 movies I've never seen before, either. I don't give a fuck about myself. Look, I ain't shit. I ain't never gonna be shit. And you less of a man than me, so as soon as I decide that you ain't gonna be shit—pow. So be it. You remember that, motherfucker. 'Cause I'm the one you all need to be worried about. Partner.

Juice

1992

Ernest R. Dickerson

Zoom: July 22, 2026, 9 PM to 10 PM

Participants: Joe, Sam, Sean E., Stef

A question posed toward the middle of the Juice discussion: is it better to watch a movie that reflects your own experience in life and the space you exist in, or is it better to watch a movie that is all new to you, depicting an experience you had no familiarity with prior to watching? Because I think it's important to consider the fact that four privileged (relatively!) white people were chatting about a film about a time and place that had very few intersections with our own experiences. It's interesting to watch a movie in which you can see yourself, but it's equally interesting to watch a movie and find a side of humanity that you weren't privy to before that.

Some more thoughts about Juice:

• Was Bishop's character real to life or larger than life? Was this typical experience or was this a horror villain come to life?
• Bishop was like Sméagol with the ring when he got ahold of the gun.
• Social work question: why does this sort of thing happen? It's a movie, so we can talk about Bishop being a villain, but in real life, we would never do that with a kid. We would ask the reasons that led him to make those choices. What cycles of poverty and abuse and violence did he get caught up in?
• Clues: Bishop saying "I hate myself!" and it being implied that Bishop's father is in prison, being sexually abused.
• Q is the most realistic character.
• Ironic tragedy that Q "has the juice now."
• Connection with White Heat! The characters watch it, and Bishop exalts James Cagney. Also: Cody Jarrett is "on top of the world," and Bishop falls to the bottom of the world in his death.
• Does it say anything about a person's character if they watch gangster movies? Where is our responsibility as the audience to understand the intention behind these films? (I.e. we're back to the Wolf of Wall Street argument.)
• Not good for the brain to be under constant stress of poverty and violence. It limits your world too. Robbing a store was an obtainable goal. Success in life is not.
• What was everyone else thinking (besides Bishop, whose reaction was explicit) when they saw Blizzard dead on the TV?
• Movies like Juice are undeniably beneficial to exist, as there are experience that, due to structural racism etc., have not been told as many times as other throughout film history, so it's important to make those stories known
• Great acting! It felt like the kids had realistic emotions throughout, including Bishop, who put on an air of toughness but occasionally felt scared behind the mask.
• This was three of the four kids' first film role, including Tupac and Omar Epps.
• We wanted the kids to get out of the store robbery with everyone unharmed, and it hurt when the store owner was killed, which shows that it was an affective movie, that it got us to care about the characters so quickly.
• Was Bishop good at DJing? Is this a skill that many people understand enough to judge either way? (This is all important in the history of rap as an art form, but none of us four are experts in that regard.)
• Juice WRLD named himself after this film, and he OD'd at age 21. This to me says it's not enough to watch a film like this, not enough to soak in its lessons. Is there even a lesson? Could there be?
• And what does it say about these cycles that kids get caught up in?

I loved the first half of this film, and I thought the second half was necessary to have, even though it pressed a little on the bounds of believability. Overall, good film that achieved what it wanted to achieve, and told exactly the story it needed to tell. I'd give it a 3.5 pukes out of 5 on those merits, but would recommend it to anyone looking for something that gives a sincere and honest sense of drama, without really ever slipping into melodrama.

How about you? What do you say about this one? If you missed the Zoom, or were there and have more to say, meet us in the comments!

(NEXT TIME: Waiting to kiss in the rain while watching The Notebook.)

Never Seen It #321: Scent of a Woman

Blogs! What can you say? Who made 'em? God must have been a fuckin' genius. The 500 movies you've never seen before... They say the blogging about movies is everything, you know.

Scent of a Woman

1992

Martin Brest

My apologies to any blind folks who cannot read this blog post. But if Chris O'Donnell is there to help you, continue on to see what Film Club had to say about this film.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunny

What an insane piece of '90s nostalgia. I knew nothing about this movie going in. Not even knowing Pacino was blind, I thought "Scent" was referring to... I dunno, a trail? Maybe it was a mystery / crime caper?

No, in fact it was closer to The Holdovers or Dead Poets Society, a genre I didn't even realize was a thing: boys boarding school flick. Thanksgiving flick. Grumpy-old and spiritually-marooned-youth buddy flick.

The particular character of this movie—the Pacino Best Actor-ness of it all—is what shines through all the comparisons and eye-rubbing '90s tropes. From moment ONE you know he is ACTING. The follow-up being... Acting as what, exactly?

There are some clear moments where I said "give him the Oscar!" like when he eats the paper with the phone number, or when he chokes Bradley Whitford. You've got pretty good supporting in the Dean and PSH playing a too-clever-by-half prep school kid. Still, the movie is waaaay too long in that '90s way, with the phone-it-in soundtrack, and a story framing that makes barely any sense. What is this prank exactly? What is this trial at the end? Why is Pacino allowed to grandstand? Why not I guess. And then who are these Elders who make the final rulings afterwards?

Some scenes are also bizarre and too long even if memorable (tango scene), but net out with another scene featuring a short Pacino quip or racist diatribe that would get me going.

What else did Brest go on to do? Oh, shit, Gigli? My man.

3.5/5 hoo-ahs

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam

Here is exhibit A for a movie that receives a Best Lead Actor nomination (and win!) that should not further be rewarded. I can't tell if this movie is mediocre or flat out bad. But Al Pacino is so good, the formulaic approach, incredibly terrible supporting actor performance, and gratuitous long scenes fade away (to an extent). I just want Lt. Col. Frank Slade to yell at me—hoo-ah!

"Never Seen It" works best for me when Joe's blank spot and my own interest align. While I'll certainly watch any movie and love to be surprised by something I have never heard of (see Pillow Talk), I appreciate when a classic like Scent of a Woman—with the culturally colossal Pacino performance—jumps the line on my watchlist, and I can take it in with friends—hoo-ah.

And Pacino more than lives up to it. Certain actors over time become parodies of themselves. They are punchlines for late-night comedians or archetypes in National Lampoon movies. But in reviewing the source material, people like Pacino, Jack Nicholson, Marlon Brando, and Katharine Hepburn, for example, demonstrate why they become fodder for imitation. Pacino here comes off so unique and big and crazy, it's easy to want to pretend to be them. It is the highest form of flattery to run off Frank Slade non-sequiturs—hoo-ah!

Mixed up in the analysis is the open question of whether Pacino is even remotely portraying a person who is blind accurately. There's a certain "Bugs Bunny pretending to be blind to avoid Yosemite Sam" quality to his performance. But I won't be so woke to even remotely suggest that an actual blind person stand in for Al here. The critique lies more in the thematic device that being visually impaired means. Slade has become blind as sort of a punishment for all his bad behavior and indicates his fall from grace. It's almost as if the movie is saying being blind is one of the worst things that could befall a person, and Slade, in his depressed moments, does long for the visually sumptuous moments that life formally gave him. It's very comically '90s for the logline to be "Al Pacino—but blind!" But I'm not looking for accuracy, and at minimum, Pacino's portrayal is reeking with humanity, so maybe, he's ok—hooh-ah?

And I won't dwell on this, but Chris O'Donnell is such a terrible empty suit foil to Pacino. Pretty much everyone else in the movie is better than him. The casting director put way more time in lining up bit parts for better actors with Philip Seymour Hoffman, June Squibb, Bradley Whitford, and (comically as the last-minute love interest) Frances Conroy. We're supposed to see O'Donnell as a surrogate son (which is explicitly said) or young Frank dealing with the old boys club while he stands up for what is right. But he is mealy mouthed, mumbly, and forgettable—he still didn't have a speech up his sleeve at the end. Take The Holdovers as evidence that a young actor (Dominic Sessa) can stand toe-to-toe with a big character (like Paul Giamatti) and the movie can withstand that push-pull of focus. O'Donnell just can't spar with Pacino, and the movie misses out on what could have been if similarly aged Matt Damon, Ethan Hawke, or Leonardo DiCaprio were in his shoes—hooh-ah :(

But let's not dwell on "what could have been"s. Let's enjoy what was there. I said earlier this movie is formulaic, and I think that's true. But what I mean is just a series of pretty ludicrous setups and character interactions that allow Pacino to flourish, so that's ok. He is such a lightning rod, we want to see Frank in every imaginable scenario, including, but not limited to: court-room drama, domestic holiday dinner squabble, high stakes action (the blind driving(!) Ferrari scene), and even a big Hollywood dance number. This formula won't always work for Pacino going forward: Frank Slade as football coach, Any Given Sunday; Slade as an Italian fashion scion, House of Gucci; Slade as a larger-than-life music producer, Phil Spector; and of course, Slade as Satan, The Devil's Advocate. But that alchemy works perfectly here. Slade as Slade is all I want and need: HOOH-AH! 

4/5

~~~~~~~~~~~

Joe

The very first thing that I did was go back and watch the Dunkaccino commercial from Jack and Jill. I just wanted to see if Scent of a Woman made the cut, now that I would recognize a reference to Scent of a Woman. Yup, they snuck a "hoo ah" in there! Very good, very good. I've definitely heard that phrase uttered around the pop culture landscape otherwise, and may have even been able to tell you that it was connected to Al Pacino in some way, but it was good connecting this particular set of dots. It always is.

But when that's my first reaction, it makes me wonder if that's all there was to that particular movie. Yes, Pacino won his only Oscar for his role in this. Is that all there is? Or is there a beating heart to this movie that I missed? I just get weary sometimes of what we talk about when we're talking about a film's value. I think a movie can be good even if there is an overwhelming sense that it's just ticking boxes. That is what I'm leaning toward when I think about Scent of a Woman. It's like I'm too far into the game now, and can recognize the mechanisms grinding away and levers being pulled as they are happening.

Like for example, the fact that Al Pacino plays a blind man, and this is the role that won him his Academy Award. That's a thing, right, where the Academy is more likely to reward you if you're playing someone with some sort of disability? I doubt this was a "thing" in 1992, but here in 2026, I've already seen Tropic Thunder. So it's tough to go back and see this as "fresh." Or like the scene with the gun, to give you a more general example. I had two competing feelings about it. One was that it was effective, since here was Chekov's suicide gun, foretold by the man intending to use it on himself, and the two characters having forged a bond strong enough that it prevents the gun from being fired. Two was that this was not revelatory by any means, that I've seen this before, in films either before or after Scent of a Woman it doesn't matter, that when the gun was introduced, you knew exactly how it was going to play out. I was satisfied because it was a good thing, but I wasn't surprised, which prevents it from being a GREAT movie.

And I'm just wondering if this is a just a limitation of a film project that involves going back and watching important (or "important," depending on the situation) movies, that they were foundational in some way, but we as a cultural have built upon that foundation, and it's tough sometimes to go back and see that foundation for what it was, now that we have all this other cool stuff on top of it. Sure, I'm talking about the pop culture references like the hoo ah in the Dunkaccino commercial, and the thousands of other characters who have said the phrase as a reference in countless TV shows and movies. But I'm also talking about taking the themes presented here and making them seem less obvious and more interesting. Like maybe a movie like Wim Wenders' 2023 masterpiece Perfect Days, which dealt with the theme of loneliness and solitude without having the oversized characterization of "blind man" in there.

And then I feel stupid when I try to pull something from the themes of a movie like this when I can feel the machinations at work, almost like I'm trying to be too clever or something. Here's a thought I had during Frank Slade's monologue during the school tribunal: both sides of the plot are about the theme of "seeing," i.e. Frank can't see and Charlie won't see. In forcing us to consider what it means to see, what seeing something might do to one's conscious, the idea is juxtaposed with the idea of being like Frank and literally not being able to see. Is this what the filmmakers intended? I am forced to think that yes, it is, but only because it's that type of film. It's obvious. It's good but it's an obvious film. There's nothing subtle about a blind Al Pacino yelling as loud as he can about Charlie's right to not see and not say. That means it's a good movie and not a great movie.

GRADE: 3.5 pukes out of 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GROUP AVERAGE GRADE: 3.67 pukes out of 5

Check out the comments hoo ah.

(NEXT TIME: Bobby gets Weird when we check out UHF together.)

Never Seen It #318: Pillow Talk

Mr. Blog, this may come as a surprise to you, but there are some men who watch 500 movies they've never seen before and don't end every sentence with a proposition.

Pillow Talk

1959

Michael Gordon

Zoom: June 23, 2026, 9 PM to 10 PM

Participants: Brianna, Joe, Sam, Stef (w/Bobby M.)

There were a few themes woven through our hourlong discussion on Zoom the other night, but the most impactful, in my opinion, is the prevailing idea that movies like this need to be seen. Not because they are more "important" than other movies, or deeper, or more moving, but simply because they are good, and they are disappearing. You can't stream this thing anywhere, no one owns it on DVD, none of us on the Zoom call had ever even heard of it before it arbitrarily showed up on our Film Club doorstep. But it was good. Real good. Fun and light and enjoyable and motherfucking good. And it's up to us to watch these movies and keep them alive, or else the four corporations that own everything are going to swallow 'em up and shit 'em out and bury them forever.

Some more thoughts pertaining specifically to Pillow Talk:

• This was one of the rare FC Zoom movies that everyone really liked. Maybe with more people there would have been a dissenter, but I don't think so. There's not really much to dislike. It's just fun.
• Maybe something to do with the "morality" of Brad deceiving Jan? Our discussion landed on "this is fun enough that we can brush it away," but I did have a thought during the movie that maybe there was too much deceiving in here? Like, maybe the deceiving made Brad's typical romcom redemption unearned?
• How do we feel about romcom "grand gestures" in general? Do they ever feel earned, or is that just a symptom of movies having a limited running time?
• Is it a stretch to say that Brad would change for Jan? Does this have anything to do with the 1950s and how it was "unnatural" to be single at Brad's and Jan's ages?
• The pregnancy running gag was excellent, possibly ahead of its time?
• Apparently this film has been "claimed" by the LGBTQ community, for this joke and for its subtle queer themes? And bright colors? Adding a layer to these thoughts, Rock Hudson was gay, an open secret in Hollywood at the time, and he was one of the first actors to die of AIDS. So he's in this movie as a gay actor playing a straight character who is pretending to be another straight character being accused by the first straight character of being gay.
• Perry Blackwell was the piano lounge singer. She doesn't have any other credits, movie-wise or music-wise, beyond this. Who is she? How did she get here? Does the mystery surrounding this have anything to do with race stuff that maybe wasn't handled great (tokenism? minstrel-esque?)?
• The idea of a party line was new to almost everyone here, but it was nice that the movie explained it a little bit, and there was enough context to fill in the missing pieces. What a time, though, to be sharing a phone line with a stranger!
• Tony Randall is so good in this. Thelma Ritter is great as always, but perhaps a little wasted (ha), not needing to be the comedic relief.
• The scene where Jonathan slaps Jan and then immediately gets punched by the locals was interesting.
• Interesting too that Jonathan specifically warns his buddy Brad that he's gonna be upset if Brad steals Jan from him, but then Brad does it anyway.
• And what's up with the Dennis Reynolds apartment-trapping technology? How much does that cost? Are these people rich?

So yeah, we filled the hour. It's interesting to consider movies like this in the context of a Film Club, because it being a light and fluffy feelgood romcom sometimes does a lot to wipe away concerns or discussion points that you might normally have for other movies. Is it worth discussing, for instance, the idea of the morality of Brad's deception, when it's not really that type of movie? I don't know. I think Film Club can have it both ways. We can acknowledge that such a discussion is probably not necessary, and we can have the discussion anyway.

I'm gonna drop a 4.5 pukes out of 5 on Pillow Talk. I was probably between 4 and 4.5 before the discussion, but sometimes the shine of collective joy makes me round up. Sometimes a fun movie is just a fun fucking movie and deserves to be celebrated.

What did you think? If you couldn't make the Zoom but still watched the movie, is there anything we missed? Let's talk Pillow Talk in the comments.

NEXT TIME: Brianna's small-group pick is here with the two-and-a-half-hour and highly recommended Amadeus.

Never Seen It #314: Akira

Look at what they abandoned in their panic, they were afraid! They were too scared, so they hid it away from the public. They forgot all 500 movies they'd never seen before, cast off the civilization and science we had created, and shut the lid of the Pandora's Blog they themselves had opened.

Akira

1988

Katsuhiro Otomo

Thanks to all those who took the time to share their thoughts about Akira! Check out what we had to say below.

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Bobby M.

Visually, I loved Akira. I thought the visuals and sound design set an incredible atmosphere. I'm a big fan of the Cyberpunk genre (currently playing Cyberpunk 2077 on Switch), and this movie had the same issues I have with the genre as a whole—too much worldbuilding, too fast, that is tough to follow. However, the overall message that the world is complicated, the progress isn't linear, that the future might not actually be better than the present, keeps me coming back.

3.5/5

~~~~~~~~~~~

Stef

I feel like I was set up, because there is so much about a dystopian animation set Tokyo that I'm meant to like—it checks a lot of boxes for me. And the animation was so insane, one could really never reasonably dispute that. But once the thrill of the visuals wore off, I realized I didn't know what the fuck I was watching. I really tried to focus and get myself there, but the whole time I felt like there was just something key I was missing. Like an inside joke that could never be let in on because I HAD to be there. I could probably manage to muster a summary of the plot if asked, but I wouldn't feel super confident in it. I was absolutely dazzled by this movie, and doubly confused. Which is fine, but not fun.

2/5

~~~~~~~~~~~

Kait

I made the mistake of watching this film on my phone before bed, and of course did not finish it, in part because I did not set myself up for success, and also because it became a bit overwhelming for me to power through. I should've watched this on a bigger screen. I think that would've helped.

From what I did see, the animation was incredible. What a visually stunning movie filled with intricate details especially in the Neo-Tokyo cityscape. Also funny to me that it was set in future... 2019!! I enjoyed the music, too. The story, however, was so fast-paced that I had a hard time following. There was so much going on, and after reading a plot synopsis, I realized there's no way I would've kept up for the entire duration of the film. Maybe on the big screen? But also maybe not. 

2 pukes out of 5

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Sam

I'm squinting to figure this one out. This movie is so 1988 in all positive and negative attributes. Being almost 40 years old, the film's originality loses a bunch of luster based on me the audience member watching a bunch of movies in the interim. If I was an American teen who got access to this in like 1992, I can see my mind being blown. As it is, Akira was too plotty, grimy, and mean-spirited for me to enjoy it too much.

Honestly, this reminded me of a Marvel movie. There's characters that maybe you care about are fighting an existential threat that you spend a lot of time figuring out the plot mechanisms and rules. The end result is predictable, and the fights aren't cool enough to justify it. 

That said, I did enjoy how weird this was. The trauma of post-bomb Japan is just in their bones at this point, and their sci-fi frequently engages with the aftereffects of nuclear annihilation. The demigod super children are creepy and profound and hopeful. The military man hates the hedonistic society he is protecting. The biker gang is visceral but totally annoying, as are the revolutionaries. 

The film likely would have been more enjoyable without the whiney, high-pitched English speakers. I’m a "subs over dubs" enthusiast. I wonder if the content would have gone down easier in reading. 

Ultimately, this felt like a long X-Men episode, in tone, color, and plot. 

Three stars

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joe w/Sunny

Sam chose this as his Q5 film pick for a small group, but Sunny also chose Akira as his "for Joe" already-seen-it movie. So to make the nesting doll fit snug, I asked Sunny to provide some questions and prompts for my blog-post-within-a-blog-post. Here's the email I received:

"Aite dog, I shoulda gone to bed early last night but ended up just ripping through Akira again. No regrets! Here are some potential questions, maybe loosely ordered from most curious to least curious for me. I imagine you'd have talked about some/all of these in a typical write up anyway, so make your pick of whichever resonates with you!

I remember first time I finished this movie, I went 'hell yeah!' And then 'what the fuck?' I’ve talked to folks and usually get a different answer to the question I'll ask you: What do you think this movie is *actually* about?

You've seen a decent amount of Japanese cinema now (Tokyo Story, Seven Samurai). I've started to notice themes that cut across much of the post war cinema. You've also seen some anime (Miyazaki movies), though this one is 'harder anime,' lacking a better term. What aspects of Japanese culture stood out to you, if any? And, what about the various anime tropes and mores in presenting character and plot, do you find them grating or consistent with the presentation?

Part of what I like about this movie is that Neo-Tokyo is a pretty dark place in a pretty dark time. We open on our ostensible protagonist Kaneda getting into a motorcycle gang fight, and the antagonist is... Tetsuo? The Espers? The gov't of Japan? I'm curious with whom were your sympathies throughout the movie, and did you find that changed as the runtime went?

To my mind, several movies and other media felt inspired by this just through its ideas and structures. Definitely other animes, but I remember a Rick and Morty where he turns into an akira, or that Max Landis' Chronicle, which has a lot of similarities. Hell, the stupid Charles Barkley jrpg is set in Neo-New York. This movies as old as me; after watching it, do you think it feels dated or fresh? Did any of the visuals or plot points strike you as being used in other future media, or did it not click that way for you?

How about that soundtrack boiiiiiii?"

I'll cop to not knowing the answer to the first question. This feels like one of those "it could be about anything, it could be about everything, it could be about nothing" movies. The lesson that the open-endedness and mystery of it all could be part of a film's value didn't actually sink in for me until 2001: A Space Odyssey, but now I'm a proponent of it. Especially if it's clear that there is a purpose, it's just not clear to the audience.

The value is being able to assign it whatever you feel is necessary. And if you move through enough of those types of movies in an enclosed space—say, on a blog, in a film club—then the issue you run into is that the same people see the same shit in all those types of movies, over and over. Which isn't the movie's fault, it's the blogger's fault. I suppose that's the name of the game, though.

You won't be surprised to hear, for example, that I think what Akira is "about" is childhood trauma. That's just where my mind goes (it doesn't help that most of my writing these days is interrupted with phone calls and emails about potential childhood traumas all around our fair city). Tetsuo is figuratively dealing with the pain of his upbringing at a group home while literally dealing with the pain of, uh, a dark spirit taking control of his body, or something like that, I dunno. It's all very gruesome, but it's supposed to be metaphorical too, I think.

Add in the post-war Japan stuff that Sunny talked about, how there was a generation who grew up under the shadow of the atom bombing, and you can see where the collective trauma might come from. What happens when a country rebuilds after a tragedy of that scale? Doesn't it make sense that something dark and dystopian might rise from the rubble? Not saying that Japan in the latter half of the 20th century was dark or dystopian, I'm saying that there was a pervading sense of darkness and dystopia around that stage of Japan's history. Which informs the creation of this art.

In this regard, I think we can view Tetsuo and the Espers both as dual protagonists. Or, if not protagonists, then at least the sympathetic characters here. Kaneda could be viewed as a protagonist, but one removed from much of the action, a Harry Potter type who seems involved in a lot of the action without driving much of it. Tetsuo and the Espers are the beating hearts of the film, in that they are grappling with past horrors, and furthermore witnessing those horrors affect their lives and the lives of those around them in horrific ways. Tetsuo can't control his anger, Kiyoko and the boys make the decision to, uh, step into the other universe with Tetsuo, something something, I dunno I can't explain it but it seemed like a very brave action!

I like the idea of tracking the possibilities of protagonist throughout the runtime, though. There's a connection there to something I thought was interesting in the margins of Akira. It's apparently accepted that a being named Akira was the cause of the destruction of Tokyo in 1988, and in 2019, there is a sizeable portion of the population who worship Akira or look to Akira for salvation. Then it's revealed that Akira has been destroyed (so they think), and that they've been worshipping something that doesn't even exist anymore. It made me think of the joke that if aliens came down and captured America, then many of us would be thankful that someone was able to end the mayhem that is our government. To me, the way that the radicals sought to view Akira was something similar, and spoke to how truly dark times were in Neo-Tokyo.

I'm talking around some of the true structure and plot mechanics of Akira because I just didn't understand most of it. Which is a bummer, but again, says more about me than about the movie. We've already seen plenty of movies in this Film Club whose plot didn't quite make sense, and I've never been one to dismiss it because of that. If anything, I'd be more inclined to watch it again (if I had the time). I appreciated Sunny's implication that a lot of what we know as "anime" as a style of animation started here. I've seen my fair share of Pokémon episodes too, and it was interesting witnessing this style in a pretty violent and surreal adult movie. I am a total novice when it comes to the "animation style" conversation, but I'll note that it was something that stood out.

A quick note about the music: I don't think anything particularly stood out for me, but I'm really glad you mentioned it. I just generally appreciate music listening behavior that was shaped outside of something that I know. Pretty clear from evidence scattered around various sections of the blog like breadcrumbs that Sunny knows his way around an anime soundtrack, and a lot of what he hears and how he hears it was shaped through (I assume) repeats of various anime soundtracks growing up. I just like knowing different perspectives. As with movies, music exploration is a journey, and you are aided in your journey by various passersby, some who will join you for a ways, others who are headed in the opposite direction, all of whom add to the value of your quest.

What does my quest to "understanding movies" look like after watching Akira? I don't know. I can't even say that I understand it yet, if I'm being honest. But I enjoyed viewing it, and I enjoyed being confused, and I think there's plenty to pull from it, even if your largest understanding of what Akira was about is pulled from the Wikipedia page.

GRADE: 3 pukes out of 5

~~~~~~~~~~~

GROUP AVERAGE GRADE: 2.7 pukes out of 5

Fire the orbital weapon at the cryogenic storage dewar to create a singularity and meet us in the comments to talk about!!

(NEXT TIME: Joe takes Stef's suggestion to watch Spaceballs, which better be funny OR ELSE.)

Never Seen It #313: Kill Bill: Volume 1

It was not my intention to watch 500 movies I've never seen before in front of you. For that I'm sorry. But you can take my word for it, your blog had it comin'. When you grow up, if you still feel raw about it, I'll be waiting.

Kill Bill: Volume 1

2003

Quentin Tarantino

Zoom: May 26, 2026, 9 PM to 10 PM

Participants: Batts, Bobby M., Brianna, Frank, Joe, Sam, Sean E., Sunny

Quentin Tarantino is the only director on the Film Club list that is cognizant of Film Club's existence. Or was, at least, for a brief moment, while he was ordering his coffee in a coffee shop in Israel, as served by Film Club member Zach. Tarantino was not present at the Zoom.

We did talk about Quentin Tarantino as a person, though, probably more so than we usually do with directors of the films we cover in Zoom discussions. How he's, at best, flawed as a human, at worst unoriginal as a filmmaker, the truth somewhere in between these poles, and also the connection to Harvey Weinstein.

A subject that we probably didn't discuss as much as was warranted was the idea of sexual violence being gratuitous in film. How maybe each member of the audience has their own tolerance level, how some directors are more wanton than others with the subject matter, how it's tough to discern the director's intentions when the subject itself can be so traumatizing. Things get even murkier here than they did in, say, Blue Velvet, because of how the violence bends toward the real world and behind the scenes: Harvey Weinstein, a producer, sexually assaulted Uma Thurman, the star of the movie that glorifies the idea of revenge against your abuser.

Here are some other things we discussed, most of them less tangled or complicated than the Weinstein of it all.

• Most people acknowledged that it was fun, but there was some trepidation around saying that an action movie was good, because action movies typically eschew character building or rich plot
• Was the world building within the genre that the movie was taking on?
• David Carradine, who plays Bill here, starred in a TV show called Kung Fu (his appearance here was intended as a surprise for audiences)
• Many of the Tarantino tropes appear here, including snappy dialogue, time juggling, cheesy line readings (cheesy on purpose)
• "Tarantino's flaw [in Inglourious Basterds] is that he assumes Holocaust victims would want to do to nazis what nazis did to Holocaust victims."
• Does this makes sense as one movie or two? In other words, is it bifurcated or episodic?
• Foot fetish.....
• Is Tarantino an influential filmmaker / why he is so hard to copy
• Were scenes taking wholesale from other movies and does that matter?
• RZA's involvement in the score—based on Wu-Tang's already established love of kung fu films?
• Does it build suspense or kill it to mix up the chronology?
• "Audiences don't appreciate the illusion, they appreciate the technique."
• What would Vol. 3 look like?
• Where does this fall in the ranking of Tarantino films?

We didn't talk much about:

• How realistic the groans of the dying martial arts dudes were, and how that seemed like a good twist on how this would typically happen, where they would die and basically disappear
• There must have been so many references to martial arts films that I missed
• I appreciated some unique camera shots, e.g. when a dude gets hit with an ax and falls backward and the camera follows the ax
• There was a lot of humor, like when the Bride spanks the teenager with a sword
• "If on your journey you encounter god, god will be cut!"
• Reason for beeping out the main characters name for most of both movies?

And finally, a thought that I originally had but then maybe thought was too cliché or shallow to bring up during the Zoom. There were a couple people who didn't want to watch the film because they thought it was going to be too bloody or gory. They were right, but it also got me thinking about how we view movies, and how we depend on the knowledge of movies being fiction to put up an emotional wall between us and the film sometimes. But not everyone likes doing this! I had a friend one time who couldn't watch Mrs. Doubtfire because she was recently divorced. Sometimes the pain cuts too close.

What did you think of Kill Bill Volume 1 overall? I'd give it a 4 pukes out of 5, for creativity and fun. What say you? Lots to discuss, let's hash it out in the comments.

(NEXT TIME: Our second month's first small group pick is Akira!)