I remember being told when I was very young that one was to never start any work of writing with a question, and after little first grade journalistic entries turned “presentations” out of seemingly nowhere, whereby you could distinctly make out the line down the middle of the class population and separate them into the categories of pre-sentience and those aware of their own existence, aging, peach fuzz upcroppings, ever-nearing death by the blank bovine stare in their suddenly dark…
The first words I heard the moment The VVitch ended back when I saw that film in theaters was “that was the gayest movie of all time,” spoken in effortlessly cool tone by the intellectually enlightened and fearless boyfriend of a goth chick sitting but a single row in front of me and a couple of my friends. Imagine the balls it takes to tell a goth girl that about that movie, with the legions of them wearing their “Black…
I saw the poster and title for this film about two years ago when I was “taking the plunge” and watching Salò for the first time, and I got really nervous that I was on a website that had straight up snuff films on it.
Turns out this is actually a feminist film.
Think about it.