Rats in paradise! Rats in paradise!
"There are moments when we cannot believe that what is happening is really true. Pinch yourself and you may find out that it is."
Axioms of terror and of God being dead.
The sun as hatred, beaming down in sweltering rays of torturous heat, so hot that the sweat dries before it can evaporate rendering the function cruel. Paint peels from bubbles formed by boiling when wet. The old lake is gone with nothing but dust left, waiting to stick…
There is no fire, there is no brimstone. It is not tangible and it is not a place. Hell is a mystic infection, left benign behind a gate of clay. A crude mausoleum of black magic marked only with the symbol of Eibon and containing the swirling pulse of an evil purity clinging to a destroyed corpse defiled by liasons of metal and blood inside the open flesh of gaping wounds, preserved in solidified lime.
"Jesus Christ is the answer"…
Jesus christ this was the clunkiest piece of shit I've ever seen in my life. Like one of those compilation clip episodes sitcoms have but for a shit second rate Halloween TV series on a channel called Drama4U after the episode got shredded and spliced back together by an idiot. Literally everyone including Jamie Lee Curtis got absolutely bodied on the acting front by the fucking pumpkin and I don't even think its because the dialogue was seemingly written by…
A hang out flick in the alternate reality Lucinda lives in, and by starting the film you leave the door open and she slips out thru the syrupy membrane into real world familiarity to exhibit her seduction to blood suction rituals unto the world. Mallrat/video store dissonance in the fabrics of otherworldly trance states that literally steal your heart. Brief but steeped in vibes of slow and deliberate. Lucinda temporally superimposed into realms of everyday routines that make people susceptible…
Pure absolutely distilled schlocky bullshit. Like an episode of NCIS where the perp is Brandon Lee from The Crow as a parkour contortionist electro-ghost for about an hour, then it completely jumps off the rails like them good old Duke Boys traversing a river with a broken bridge to evade the coppers, only instead of having moonshine stashed in the footwell, they've got stolen Frank Henenlotter scripts.
James Wan has made this for a specific audience, and it is not 90% of the modern general horror-populae, evidenced by everyone else in the cinema actively hating it. Go in blind.
The demotion of narrative structure and form and pacing to barely a footnote of sleazy record exec music biz manager story motion, because those things don't matter. All that matters is the 80s metal and cock rock satanic panic being catered to and justified so that Farmer can treat us to the true form of transmorphic demonia, talons and teeth and all.
Embrace the filmic sink. It's all in the left hand path witch magick controlling a mind and turning…