Burning Bulb Publishing have just released my novella ‘Big Trouble in Little Ass’ from their Westward Hoes anthology as a standalone ebook.
To quote The Beatles: ‘A splendid time is guaranteed for all.’
You can get it here.
Available now at Amazon.
My new novel Boston Posh, is now up for sale on Amazon.com
You can buy it here
Burning Bulb Publishing also have two fantastic trailers for the book up on YouTube:
Whooo! (Like Rick Flair says).
My story ‘Lucy in Brain Ceiling World’ is in Bizarro Pulp Press’ upcoming anthology, due out early next year.
Whatever other questions you have, don’t ask me to explain the cover. Seriously. That red wound, though, looks suspiciously familiar . . .
Hmmm! How does one start here?
Okay, the truth. I really enjoyed this movie.
Did I find it the most disturbing thing I’d ever seen? No. The most extreme? Yes.
The difference between the two–disturbing/extreme–is a question of what offends you. But . . . being a writer of extreme fiction, I admit it takes quite a bit to upset my stomach.
One of the first things you note about Melancholie is that it’s a serious film. Which I suspect is another problem audiences have with it: It’s beautifully directed and produced and has a fantastic soundtrack, and the epic 2 ½ hour length . . .
And all for what? To watch people act out their depraved fantasies?
But why not?
Now, In case you wonder why I mention the length–I normally don’t watch any movie that runs for two hours, but this case I did. And didn’t regret a moment of the time spent. In fact–also a disturbing point about this movie–I recall thinking at about the 45-minute mark (before the madness began) that what had played up till then would work perfectly as a short film about a very surreal/odd night out.
Now onto the good/bad sh*t depending on which side you fall.
The violence, rape, torture, coprophilia, necrophilia? It is a horror film, it’s meant to horrify you, right? Yes, I know there’s another sort of horror that aims to actually scare you, but trust me, this isn’t it. This falls soundly in the ‘uugh, how could they even think of doing that?’ category of movie.
Rest assured for one, that people in wheelchairs with colostomy bags will likely be calling for Marian Dora’s head for ages to come. And Margarethe Von Stern, who plays the crippled Clarissa, definitely deserves an award for her performance. Haven’t seen anyone so convincingly scared in ages.
[Trust me. You've no idea why she's making this face, and you really don't want to know.]
Okay, part 2 of the good/bad sh*t, although this is really all bad: the animal cruelty stuff/snuff.
I need to make a point here: I’m not an ‘animal lover.’ By that I simply mean that all lower vertebrate species (by which I mean everything that isn’t human) are peripheral to my scheme of existence. Essentially I don’t think about animals. I don’t pamper them, I don’t abuse them either. So you can interpret my next comments in the light of this knowledge.
Definitely pass this by if you’ve a thing for pets or wildlife. You’ve been warned. Except of course, you’re looking to watch something you know you’ll hate so you can campaign against it.
My opinion about all the animal killings? It’s complicated.
The poor cat? Well the best I can say is that they got it high first, hopefully, it didn’t feel its passing too much, felt dying was just a bad trip. :-(
Do I agree with Marian Dora’s approach of actually killing animals to make his film in this day of advanced CGI. No (though it does save money). Do I think it worked in making the film what is? Yes.
That’s the problem. It does f*cking work. This movie was made to shock. To disturb. It shocks, it disturbs. Even without the animal snuff, trust me. So why put it in? you’ll ask. I guess just to shock you more.
A slight (maybe amusing) diversion. Some people are going to rail on me: ‘Oh no, I didn’t enjoy it, I was just so pissed off!’ ‘How the hell could he do that!’ ‘That Satanist cocksucker killed a cat!’ ‘This was just a total waste of time, utter crap,’ ‘It wasn’t horrific at all, just an infantile obsession with scat and pee!’
Dude, are you serious? And yet you got up sufficient vitriol to write about it? Admit it . . . It f*cking bothered you.
Being bothered is often simply our rejection of another’s concept of art. Sometimes, it’s being (justifiably) disturbed that there are minds out there thinking such odd (read: sick, warped, unholy, anti-ethical, immoral, fucked-up) concepts. People you wish the US government would lock away permanently in Guantanamo Bay.
Another thing I enjoyed about this movie? It’s not trying to teach me anything. It can’t. It doesn’t have a single character in it that I could possibly desire to learn anything from. Which is joyously refreshing. I honestly don’t think I’m the only person tired of filmmakers sticking their point of view into everything they make. Just tell the f*n story, dude, keep your wanking for later.
A reviewer commented that all the characters were unlikeable. Maybe so, but eighty percent of movies I get to see nowadays star characters no one in their right senses (sometimes not even parents) could like in real life, and yet whom Hollywood presents to everyone as role models. So It’s actually nice to just have people you’re not being told it’s politically correct to like.
But then here’s the catch (22?): Because you’re not being told to like these people, you’ll find you actually don’t dislike them either. Okay, except you’re wheelchair bound and wear a colostomy bag, and I assure you that I’m not being flippant here. You have no f*n idea.
Melancholie deserves to be viewed because of what it dares to put onscreen.
I think that’s the keyword here: ‘DARES.’
There are scenes in this flick I’d never have imagined anyone would dare film in a SERIOUS movie; and I honestly doubt anyone will ever dare to do again. One short segment during the bonfire scene right near the end (2:26:30) sticks with me. It’s partly smoke-obscured, but clear enough. I’m still blinking. Did I actually see that? Oh, no, tell me I didn’t f*cking just see that.
In conclusion? Melancholie Der Engel is a tortuous unending sequence of horrible/disgusting/disturbing/offensive things that you’d rather not see onscreen. Honestly! But it’s also a harrowing reality much greater than the sum of its sleazy/perverted little parts.
And when people shrill and scream and say ‘Ban it, Ban it! Try! Jail! Fine! Crucify the director!’ they miss the point. To get that reaction from them–THAT IS the whole point of the film. For being that fearless, I’ve got to commend the director, Marian Dora. I’d never dare make Melancholie Der Engel in a million years.
Rating this is a no brainer. Easily 10/10.