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 ometimes,
ideas are birthed that are sound, insightful, and
even mature, but when implemented in the physical
world they deflate like a sulky blow-up doll.
Asking your girlfriend to have a threesome, for
instance. Homer Simpson once put Communism into
this category; I will add to it,
"LoveCracked! The Movie".
Produced by Biff Juggernaut
Productions (?) -- in the vein of independent, low
budget, horror/comedy, Troma-esque ventures only
to be found lurking near the handicap bathroom
stalls of the world wide web --
"LoveCracked", on paper, is a historical
psychoanalysis of writer H.P. Lovecraft, a fairly
obscure writer of dark fiction who lived in the
early 1900's. While you may very well be
unfamiliar, as I was, with this liaison to many a
horror flick, check up on old H.P. on wikipedia
where you will find some surprisingly profound,
existential quotes, which got me interested. This
supposed "anthology", however, does
little more than to make one ideate about suicide.
To achieve this deep
probation of the mind of Lovecraft through visual
reproductions of his work, a myriad of directors
in the underground film scene contributed shorts
inspired by Lovecraft's stories. This film is in
no way as clever, or seamless, as the black comedy
"Four Rooms" (Quentin Tarantino, Robert
Rodriguez, etc.) where four, directorially
creative minds were smelted down into one
glimmering reel of analog tape.
"LoveCracked" is more like a bi-polar
mix tape suffering the side effects of
noncompliance with its prescribed medications.
While there are a few pieces in this sloppy
amalgamation worth rewinding, the producers
thought it a good idea to attempt to tie the whole
thing together with footage of a purposefully
imbecilic journalist interviewing stock brokers,
snowmen, and other stupid shit, about their
thoughts on Lovecraft.
It all begins with this
journalist, who "likes to pat on the asses of
young boys", retracing the geographical steps
of Lovecraft's life through places which he had
never been. Funny, right? It continues on,
undeterred and obstinate. With every
"clue" that is uncovered about Lovecraft
through his writing, a new short is weaved in,
some appropriate, some utterly nonsensical, and
one, in particular, blatantly pornographic, though
in a transcendently obscene sort of way. Cheap
gags, obviously, trail throughout this myopic
journey as a blemish on one's ass would, e.g. a
punk rock guy reading a romance novel, freeze
framed, with a crude penis/balls drawn from the
book to his mouth.
We'll start with the good and
work our way right down. The Matisse-red tinted
short entitled "Remain" is visually
engrossing and disturbing, as nothing but atonal
noise surrounds a shirtless man who has a mental
schism watching a blank canvas sinisterly evolve
into a portrait of Satan, take on life, then
mummify him. "Bug Boy" should have been
fleshed out into a whole movie, as it has the only
decent acting, special effects, and horror worthy
of the word. As you can easily deduce, it is about
a boy who turns into a bug. There is another scene
about some dumb-ass who tries to sleep with a
massively well-endowed, red headed witch and gets
his soul stolen instead, but I forgot the title
and I'm not putting this DVD anywhere near my TV
again, sorry.
Then there are the impotent
stabs at non-sequitur, ala "The
Lurkers", which, with the finesse of freshman
technology institute students, follows a bunch of
dudes who play guitar, start fires with their
rocking, and frequent the back room video booths
of porn stores. Also, another short which shall
remain nameless due to my negligence, which is ten
or so minutes of a guy playing violin. I guess it
is some kind of oedipal statement, seeing as the
violinist keeps flashing back to his mother and
then he assaults one of his young female students,
but there is no dialogue; it is one of those times
when you need to be told explicitly what is going
on.
Lastly, and completely out of
context, is a hardcore scene from a porn movie. If
nothing else, "Re-penetrator" will shock
you into attention after falling asleep halfway
through the film. You think it is just for
gratuitous purposes that this scene opens up with
a bloody, busty nude girl lying on a table in a
mad scientist's lab; that is, until the camera
focuses on her who-ha. From there, the Dr. and his
voluptuous Ms. Frankenstein make sex with lots of
fake blood exploding out of orifices it shouldn't,
and organs being ripped out and sucked on. Wow!
No me gusta esta pelicula.
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