Several thumbs pointed in various directions

Have seen quite a few movies lately, and they seem to be forming a pattern, albeit in descending chronological order. These capsule reviews should suffice to illustrate:

Empire Records, 3/10/09, Alamo Drafthouse (Ritz)
(Disclaimer: a friend of mine, a guy, brought me to this, but neglected to say that it was "Girlie Night." Needless to say, it was a slumber party atmosphere with lots of goofy martinis, but I couldn't complain.) Unlike most of the audience, I'd never seen it before, but as the film progressed, an icky, impolite sensation slowly grew in the pit of my stomach. This is crass entertainment to the tilt - I smiled, laughed, and even felt some shivers; but I despised myself every time I did. Look - there were some amusing moments and some great songs, and I can understand the nostalgia value (had I grown up with this movie, I may've felt different), but the problem is this: Empire Records reinforces the idea that there are actually cool record stores in this world where one could theoretically be employed. There might've been a couple at one time, but they are dead and gone, and were probably on a path toward self-destruction to begin with. The girl who introduced the movie (dressed in sweater and plaid skirt, like Liv Tyler's character) talked about the fictional store as a dream job, and the audience agreed. This is a dangerous situation. The illusion it creates sustains the employees of almost all the Best Buys and Barnes and Nobles in the world. (Quit.) And I haven't even started on reinforced stereotypes: the Ivy League-bound princess addicted to speed, the girl who sleeps around because she has no confidence, the quirky guy with witty responses to everything who has it all figured out, etc., etc. Blech.

The Sinful Dwarf, 3/4/09, Alamo Drafthouse (Ritz)
Weird Wednesdays at the Alamo Ritz is a wonderful concept: weird cult and exploitation flicks shown for free at midnight (on a Wednesday, mind you) in a theater that serves food and beer and wine. I had been hearing about The Sinful Dwarf for a long time, and it was a pleasure to finally see. It was weird as hell. I don't know... I think the title pretty much sums it up; a dwarf and his mother run a lodging house, capture pretty girls, and run a low-concept brothel. The mother performs a few drunken cabaret numbers, and they have a coke smuggling operation on the side. One of the best effects these movies have is the disjointed progression of the plot - non sequiturs and having absolutely no idea what will happen next. It's stimulation for the mind, and in this respect, The Sinful Dwarf did not disappoint. But... that's it. I left the theater feeling satisfied, but wanting something more.

The Holy Mountain, 3/3/09, Vulcan Video (watched at Phil's house)
I had seen this one before, but had missed the first 20 minutes of the screening. Holy shit. Such is the effect of the entire movie that those first 20 minutes made me wonder if I was watching a completely different flick. It's surreal, and insane, and I never know whether to laugh or to just drop my jaw eternally. Director Alejandro Jodorowsky once said, "I ask of film what most North Americans ask of psychedelic drugs." The Holy Mountain is his testament to that expectation. Point being - my viewing of this film - both times - was an experience. And the entire experience produced a visceral, gastrocolic reaction that didn't leave me for hours, days... perhaps it's still there?

I won't spoil the end - everyone should see The Holy Mountain - but that's the kicker; and it's ironic... why the hell do we even watch (or make) movies? Experience is much better (and easier to achieve) without the screen.