« Posts tagged streaming

POX : Quit Your Screamin’ and Start Streamin’!

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.

However, for those of you more on the instant gratification tip? The film is also available for streaming, by way of the almighty TLA Video.

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?

gif, animated gif, POX, Lisa Hammer, Alizarinkryz, Kim Helms

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 . . .

Kimberly Dzwonkowski, a.k.a. Kim Helms, whose performance is so effing g-damn genius; it’s full-on intracranial hemorrhage territory.

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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Hilary Goldberg’s recLAmation: Watch It; Win One of Three Signed DVDs

So, let’s talk about Hilary Goldberg‘s recLAmation, a feature-length genre-hopping experimental documentary-slash-fictive narrative shot on Super 8, in which capitalism in contemporary Los Angeles is overthrown, and queer superheroes — one of which there’s a more-than-decent chance I inhabit via Gaylord Wilshire, spandex tights and flame-retardant cape notwithstanding — navigate a possible future.

Hilary Goldberg, recLAmation, movie

Yes. Yes, let’s talk about it. I spoke of its unique tripartite structure in a previous post, though in brief : In the first two sections, Consumption and Colonization, personal narratives interact with moving images of contemporary Los Angeles, stop motion animation, and sound design. Writer/director Goldberg’s memoir unfolds, offering reflections on time spent with her mother’s violent fiancé and in a mental hospital.

The filmmaker’s recollection of forced institutionalization is as poetic as it is poignant.

[ An excerpt ] :

“There were no ‘Please Do Not Disturb’ signs on the doorknobs because it was too late. Ghosts haunted the halls, moaning and groaning with each unbearable second. People cried and screamed and urinated on the floor. A man continuously kicked himself in the head with his bare foot. Others paced quietly, then dropped to the ground in fits of madness with intervals like a John Cage composition.”

As with the stark black and white film stock utilized in Goldberg’s neo-noir project In The Spotlight, the employment of Super 8 — an anamorphic film format known for producing a unique dream-like quality, as if everything is coated in an amniotic haze; it’s also believed to invoke feelings of nostalgia for the viewer, mimicking a sense of connection to the material presented — renders these passages particularly powerful.

Then? Then comes the third section : a fictional narrative envisions a dream of Los Angeles after it has been liberated from capitalism.

At any rate, after a successful international tour and critically-acclaimed jaunt around the festival circuit, it’s available to view via streaming, here and now. . .

The film stars Joy Anderson, Clint Catalyst, Irina Contreras, Amy Goodman, Jessica Gudiel, Jessica Hoffmann — with narration by Goldberg.

Preview, film stills, and contest info “beneath the cut” . . .

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Rad Swag, Cackles, “Polar Express”/”Dead Eyes Opened” That Really Put The SCARE In Scarecrow… Sounds Like A Party To Me!

Apparently, I’ve Got This ‘Thing’ For
Public Humiliation…

Well, that and the fact a friend of mine edited a new clip for me to post on The ‘Tubes that might very well be (no, I can’t believe I’m saying this, either) too ‘dark.’

Seriously?  SERIOUSLY.

Sheet left me in need of some Dorkus Maximus action
on
the
A.S.A.P. !

That’s why when I spotted this nifty little Widget celebrating the 70th anniversary of OZ? Whelp, if you’ve been ’round these parts of the Interwebz very much in the last 6 months, then you should already know (cough! PHOTO ALBUM cough!) I’ve got my claws way on up in that old-school biz with The Wiz…

(hack!  BLOG ARCHIVES, FASHION cough!)

Besides, what better way to whip out the ROFL-copter for a ride than by transforming myself into a brainless, cross-eyed ol’ Crow? (No disrespect to the celluloid masterpiece; I’m just a tad sore because I thought I’d get to morph into the Wicked Witch of the– oh wait. Scratch that. I guess it wouldn’t be much of a stretch for me, hrmm?)

At any rate, here’s what went down when I “got OZzy with it”:

Since the “CC-As-Crosseyed-Scarecrow” Show seems a bit persnickety, here’s a back-up:

Swept Away In A Cyclone…There’s No Place Like (Home?)

For CONTEST INFORMATION (& Other Coolness, Natch)—      Take a jump “BENEATH THE CUT!”

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Clint Co-Hosts Permission Mag Podcast

Episode #13 (Entitled “Clint Catalyst Is Real; JT Leroy Is Not)