Listen up! ‘Cause in case you haven’t heard . . . The movie POX
Written and directed by the wildly talented, wicked creative, and impressively prolific Lisa Stockton-Wilson — perhaps better known to the masses as singer / song-writer / musician / thespian / all-around Uh-Huh, Don’t-You-Wish-You-Were-Her phenomenonicon Miss Lisa Hammer —
can be obtained for the “I Mean ; I Can’t Even” section of your DVD collection.
This already-cult classic [ as in, like: Seriously, Mary . . . Where Have You Been? ] stars the inimitable Alizarinkryz as none other than POX himself.
In addition to our fearless cult leader, a slew of other luminaries appear in this cinematic delight — including :
Who? The dude from Gregg Araki‘s ever-incandescent, Thrill Kill Kult samplin’, endless-source-of-one-liners The Doom Generation? As in : That movie with Rose McGowan so white hot in her role as Amy Blue that you either wanted to be her or be with her or what-the-fuck-ever / I-can’t-even-relate-to-you, and Parker Posey‘s best cameo appearance probably, oh, ever, and of course Margaret Cho also shows because we’ve known she’s way fucking cool since long before your newbie ass was schooled how obnoxious it is for one to refer to himself by the majestic plural “we”? And uh-huh, dark-sider with so much erudite goth damage I bet even your toilet paper and tissue is pitch-hued : even and especially I’m looking at you when I reference how cEvin Key from Skinny Puppy fractured his knee during filming?
Yes. Yes, that James Duval.
And nope, the omission of Frank the Rabbit and Donnie Darko from my truncated ramble was neither oversight nor indication aforementioned title is not also chamber-tombed to my heart [for it is! It is : and how] but rather a reminder that fucking OATH, my beloved Bloggination! There’s a topic of much greater import to which I’m attempting to tend!
So, um. That being said? The film also features . . .
Levi Wilson, as the suicide punch meister of your masturbatory fantasies,
Sue Fletcher, as the
neurotic loyal devoteé who deems herself “Mrs. POX.” [ And rightly so! ]
Do not, however, mistake her — or rather : her character, totes and obvs — for a groupie. If the subtitled still frame hovering above this cluster of text doesn’t clarify the distinction, then honey : I don’t know what to tell you . . . [ A simple suggestion, perhaps? Two words : Life Alert. Pleazh is all mine, Bee Tee Doubs ]
Incidentally, well aware I’m giving Generous in the screen cap department, though rest assured that it’s been anything but mad cazh or madly random. Au contraire, the act is one of scrupulous selection — of painstaking deliberation — by which I attempt to illustrate the gravitas of the sitch, bitch. Said another way? This film tackles some serious territory. That’s “serious” with implied italics. You feelin’ me?
And the atmosphere? Oh, how it delivers. Yes!
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