Southland Tales

On 35mm.

I got soul but I’m not a soldier
I got soul but I’m not a soldier
I got soul but I’m not a soldier

man we really just denied cinema one of its most beautiful voices because we just didn’t get it huh

I really wish I could say I understood this film inside and out, but I don’t. I think the only person who can really understand it all is Richard Kelly, and that’s maybe one of the reasons I love it so damn much. It’s just such a wild, pure uncut vision that it truly boggles the mind. Johnson has never been better, channeling some kind of manic, rabid squirrel energy as he bounds from scene to scene creating destruction in his wake. And, hey, the rest of the cast is fucking perfect too, regardless of their understanding of the material. It’s just so fucking GORGEOUS too, mashing up its garish CGI, gnarly beaches, and sun-baked concrete to create a world that perfectly matches the insanity of its script and its creator. Absolutely confounding, always delirious, but never boring.

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