Sometimes you rush to see a movie, like Southland Tales in 2007, because it was Richard Kelly’s follow-up to Donnie Darko and it starred The Rock and Jon Lovitz, and Sarah Michelle Gellar singing “Teen Horniness Is Not A Crime,” but then once you actually see the movie, you don’t know what to think because the whole thing’s raw uncut early-21st Century insanity, it cuts way too close, and at the same time it’s so far over your head, your critical faculties have been rendered feeble, and though you offer some awfully confused and reserved raves about the movie to a select few in your sphere, you quickly forget about it, but not because it’s forgettable, even if you try to convince yourself maybe it was forgettable because it was pointless nonsense, but in fact you forget about it almost because it’s simply too much to process right now, you need to repress it for a while, until you’re ready to deal with this kind of noise, and while you think about the movie briefly from time to time, on the occasion that something else happens to remind you of the movie, you keep it on the backburner, practically by instinct, knowing you’ll get back to it eventually, and then after so many years you’re watching one of those singing competitions on TV, and a guy starts singing “I got soul but I’m/ not a soldier,” and suddenly bloody Private Timberlake with the Rockette nurses in the skee-ball arcade, it all comes gushing back to you, and suddenly it’s almost like you can’t make any more big decisions in your life until you watch this movie again.
Joseph P. O’Brien
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