I briefly considered doing my review of A Bucket of Blood (1959) in a stream of Beat poetry such as opens the movie. Then I thought, “Naah. That’s not my thing, and all the cats will know that I’m just a poseur, I’m not REAL, I’m not TRUE, I’m not AWARE.”
So I did my own thing. Which, if I may say so myself, I do darned well.
#1 by Thomas on May 21, 2009 - 3:59 am
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Great review, as per usual (although if you ever decide to indulge in a Burroughs-esque fantasia I won’t hold it against you). I really like this movie, but at times it hits so close to home that it becomes almost painful to watch.