Greetings, Cinematic Fanatics! Allow me the gritty, grim and gloomy pleasure of hitchhiking and kicking around the backwoods,
hollers, quarries, stockyards and creeks of a chilling community as unsaintly
as it sits quaint, where even the most unblemished soul's still marred by
taint, where volatile violence seeps through even when locals employ fierce
restraint, this novel turned flick is not meant for hearts of the faint, Ree's
ramshackle abode goes to shiz, it's impossible to repaint when you can't afford
paint, but, like a dogged dog, she trots headlong into hollows she don't
belong, she's as ballsy as she's not wrong; she takes her whippings, beatings
and licks without complaint, and you would be insane to complain as I deliver
this mordant but important gift of Slick Flick Pick, an entertaining, slick/flick-explaining series, a
desirable diversion from the main cooked crank vein of Chemohawk Sessions.
For your 36th episode, I review one of my most respected, felt and most favorite J
wintery coldslaw Law performance of all time, if you hear the crack of a rifle,
you're out of time, if you drop a dime on their cooked crank crime, you'll wind
up hog slop slime, and along with creeks chilly and crooked, your surround by
stones of lime, here, you won't hear the screams, just the restless wind and a
waking wind chime. This film is a series of serious scenes--some painfully
menacing--others eerily calm; all authentically striking and intense, such as
when Ree asks one inquiry too many, pursues a lethal odyssey but instead finds
broken, swollen cheeks aplenty keeping these inbred Missourians and us in
suspense; I would rather Ree's name be changed to Holly, along with the wicked
rhyme drop of I'm Holly Dolly, perhaps her demeanor would prove more jolly, she
just might then learn early on from her folly and pursue, instead of crank,
molly. This is a gorgeously grim, social, cultural and financial class
contemplating, rogue male hero role defying cooking us a batch of a trio of
genres: coming-of-age, mystery, drama--it transitions so seamlessly between
genres and oft simultaneously, in such a way, that you process it as a simple
study in filmmaking sleekness. I offer you, regarding this weather-beaten,
generationally gaunt and barely eaten production Winter's Bone, circa June 2010. This flick is an intimate, raw and
uncontrived viewing into the life of one financially and guardian deprived
17-year-old who, though her spirit has been slain many times--still, each time,
revived, we follow her foolhardy, but still hardy, folly into each hollow, and
we witness every crucible, from being told full lies, half truths, threats both
legit shiz and hollow, she will have coffee splashed on her fstars face and
beaten till, her own blood, swallow, J-Law both dismisses and outshines the
law, she bears the bone-chilling winter, escapes the clutches of crank's claw,
it only costs her a broken jaw and a chainsawed pa.
Enter, with me, you cinematic
fanatics, into the realm of film's fantasy while we unwind the grind of
reality… I offer you: Pick 36: Slick Flick Pick: J. Law Greets Her Deadbeat Pa with Chainsaw--One Cop, Teardrop and a Routine Traffic Stop (Winter's Bone, 2010)
Today, we discuss--the folly of thinking that you can initiate a relaxing, routine
traffic stop with a Dolly; this traffic stop of Teardrop proves too much for
one lone cop, the merits of drugs of choice: whether powder they snort, doobie
they smoke, or pills they pop, all soon tasted by the hog as their dead bodies
are served up as hog slop, Ree's pa is a crank-cooking, womanizing, agonizing,
deadbeat, both in dictionary sense and dead, without heart beat, pop, the
safety of that trampoline her siblings bounce on and hop, though Ree ain't got
shiz to plant, cook or crop, with that ax, cords of wood, she'll confidently
- Your worthwhile cinephile: Falsetto Prophet
P.S. (Procrastinated Statement) *Intro/outro song, Soulicious, courtesy of the artist, Dyalla.