This ultimately works because Shyamalan understands that body horror is nothing more than an extension of psychological horror, with the governing consciousness powerless against systems mutating in opposition of the individual's will. This trait is also what makes it a great COVID film - you can bottle the moment, but you can never halt the movement. The march forewarned in the surreal dissonance of age defying dialogue and then enacted in a swath of focus shots, concealing the trauma of…
Even in accepting that the commercial endgame is a necessity of franchising through the most needless instances of media, surely one has to admit that Disney producing a long belated sequel to Aguirre, the Wrath of God is particularly fucking egregious. Turns out Kinski wasn’t the definition of madness, rather it was watching another hyper budget blockbuster and actually expecting at least one real location.
Which is worse? Sitting through 79 minutes of disgusting trash ephemera that positions an industry of abuse and degradation as a dignified act of hard work? Or that said trash is about a clone of 2NE1 that achieved 100x the success at 1/100th the quality?
Turns out both are pretty shit!
Not a fan at all, though that applies to all of Herzog's fictions from the past decade. He's conflicted by the honesty of forgery and the forgery of honesty. He wants the awkward embrace of reality that community television will present you, but then indulges in city-consuming drone shots that distance you from the facade of everyday. He casts the actual occupier of the many fake lives to recreate the false realities he has lived through, but then slaps a…