The Seed is Love....Don't You Get It?

The Last Temptation of Christ Starring: Willem Defoe, Barbara Hershey, Harvey Keitel, Harry Dean Stanton Small Notables: David Bowie, John Lurie Director: Martin Scorsese Rating: *** 1/2 Adventurous: !!! Where you can find it: Anywhere except Blockbuster (which banned it way back in the 1980's) Similar Films: Harry Beanbag's Funhouse O' Christ, Nosferatu

In 1988, amid heavy picketing and boycotting from fundamentalist Christian groups, Martin Scorsese (Taxi Driver, Mean Streets) released his powerful film, The Last Temptation of Christ. Centering itself on the internal conflict of Jesus' human side, and featuring a cast of New York's finest indie-actors, Christ has quietly resonated among religious philosophers and film fans alike. Though it is not as good as many independent films that have been released in the film festival explosion of the last 10 years, when it is good, it's great. Willem Defoe (Shadow of a Vampire, Spider-Man), the pride of Appleton, Wisconsin, stars as the waifish wonder, Jesus, and Harvey Keitel (Taxi Driver, Mean Streets) takes on the role of an overtly-Brooklyn Judas. As the film begins, Defoe is openly questioning his existence, his desire to be the Messiah, and the correct path to freedom for Israel. He has taken up the charge of carpenter, which is the same as the biblical Jesus. From that small connection, the paths of the two diverge. In Last Temptation, Christ has plied his trade to create crosses for crucifixion. His struggle begins from the first scene, when Judas asks him why he assists the Romans in their gruesome executions. Though Christ doesn't doesn't have an answer, his actions speak to his lack of faith. It is from this point that Jesus must ascend to his rightful place among such revered figures as Mickey Mouse, and Steven Spielberg. Along the way, this version of Jesus makes enough head fakes to unnerve Christians everywhere. And that is long after the controversy surrounding this work began. The Last Temptation of Christ almost led to [Nicos] Kazantzakis' excommunication from the Greek Orthodox Church. The novel was placed on the Roman Catholic Index of Forbidden Books, and Protestant fundamentalist groups in the United States tried to have it banned from libraries (thereby helping to make it a bestseller). -Carol Iannone, The Last Temptation Reconsidered It took Martin Scorsese over 10 years to get the movie made. In the process of finding a financier, he saw his budget slashed as was dropped from Paramount Pictures, eventually finding a home at Universal Studios. Interesting fact of note: When he began conceptualizing the film in the mid 1970's, Scorsese thought Leonardo DiCaprio would be perfect in the lead role. Unfortunately for the director, DiCaprio was only just in the process of being immaculately conceived. Scorsese would have to wait another decade before settling for Willam (who by the way, really enjoys cheese-on-cheese snack crackers). When Kazantzakis wrote the book in 1955, Lolita had not yet been published, nor had many other socially confrontational novels. That Last Temptation deals so heavily in the concept that Jesus was human is very difficult for many Christians to stomach. There are numerous papers available on the web which analyze the religious aspects of the movie better than this humble reporter--I recommend the above-cited paper by Carol Iannone located here. But it seems only fair to judge this one for yourself, and judge I shall... What do I think that makes The Last Temptation of Christ worthy? More worthy than, say, The Passion of the Christ, or The Ten Commandments, or even The 700 Club w/ Pat Roberson? Nothing, really...unless you're planning on analyzing religion using more energy than you would to watch a Raisin Bran commercial. Instead of being fed through a Schiavo tube, Christ is built over almost three hours of dialogue (both internal and external). And in the process, the viewer is asked to think about What He/She Would Do in Jesus' shoes. In those loafers philosophers seem comfortable, and fundamentalists irate. The point that really pisses off the Christians is a scene near the end where Jesus is seen procreating with Mary Magdalene. The argument is this: 1) Jesus would not do this, and 2) people shouldn't even say that he could have imagined it. According to their philosophy Jesus is divine, and people have no freedom of speech...so I assume this means his dying doesn't absolve ALL sins.

Caucasian Jesus and Barbara Hershey

The most worthy aspects of the film technique are the music, composed by Peter "Sledgehammer" Gabriel, and the beautiful cinematography. The shots of the Fertile Crescent and the patchwork quilt of its inhabitants make you thirsty for a trip to the Red Sea. But no area of the movie compares to the gorgeous soundtrack. I have to admit that "Passion: Music for the Last Temptation of Christ" is one of my favorite albums of all time. Though the beauty of the music is not fully realized here--it seems like different takes, and even some added instruments, were used in the movie--the African percussion combined with Gabriel's, well, passionate voice create a mood worthy of a crucifixtion.

Two things to watch for: 1) The interpretation of Judas as devoted follower, rather than traitor. Keitel plays the kind of friend you'd want to have your back in a brawl, again baring his Brooklyn incisors. 2) David Bowie as Pontius Pilate. A wonderful turn for the singer/actor. Seeing Pilate as just another punitive leader in the long chain of history gives the character a very human side. No longer a man of evil malace, as the bible might tell, Pilate is able to sum up the fears of the Roman government in only a few short lines.

Humor as Bent as John Holmes Lifeline

The Aristocrats Director: Paul Provenza Subject: Really Tasteless Jokes, Comedy as Art Similar Films: Where it is playing: Adventurousness: !!!! Rating: *** At a family party this summer, while sipping an iced tea that would later send me into spasms of caffeine-related illness, I overheard someone talking about that new movie coming out. As a fan of the films, I asked, which new movie? THAT new movie; the one that is supposed to be so ridiculously foul that big theaters have refused to show it. What’s it about, I wondered? Unspeakable acts of violence? Sexual perversions that would make R. Kelly squirm? Are the girls from Full House involved, I hoped? Not exactly, came the reply. But Bob Saget is. It’s about a bunch of comedians who tell the same joke for an hour and a half. Boy, now that sounds interesting, I thought. If I wanted to see that, I’d get a Mel Brooks movie for free from the library… Fast-forward to September 10, and I’m sitting in the movie theater, anxiously waiting for The Aristocrats to begin. By now, I have seen the glorious preview, read interviews with the filmmakers, and heard nothing but good things about Bob Saget, Gilbert Godfrey, and the rest of the artists. It boils down to this: Comedic-magician Penn Jillette and veteran stand-up Paul Provenza have developed a film that explores the comedic process. They asked over 100 of the best comedians from the last 50 years to tell an improv joke so vile, that the film itself could not be rated. With these tellings (of which, we hear about 15-20 complete efforts), Provenza and Jillette have created an entertaining view of ignoble humor turned cerebral. This filthy old joke is the comedic equivalent of jazz. It’s raunchy; it’s free of constraints, yet is has a simple “melody” to hold onto. -Paul Provenza, Excerpt from the Director’s Statement It should probably be said at this point that the joke, itself, is not very funny. A man walks into a talent agent’s office and says, “Boy, have I got an act for you. A family comes out on stage and does unspeakable acts to each other.” “What’s the act called,” asks the agent? “The Aristocrats...(long pause, cough, a tumbleweed rolls past).” The fact that the joke has very little meat, means that the humor is in the delivery, and in whatever meat the comedian can add. So, how does the film stack up? Pretty good, considering what content Provenza had to work with. Because many of the comedians tell a similar joke, he chose to edit the film into snippets of the joke. With these smaller clips, he was able to explain the history of the joke (from vaudeville, to backstage, to parties, to the Friar’s Roast, etc.), and its common themes (scat, blood, incest, etc) in a detailed and humorous manner. There were no specific instances when I was doubled over with laughter (the last comedian to accomplish that response in me was the late, great Bill Hicks), but I must admit to smiling throughout the 90 minutes. Do they prove what they set out to prove--that comedy, like jazz, is an improvisational art form? Sure. But then, that’s not much to prove. It’s been done already a thousand times over (think Whose Line is it Anyway?, or Saturday Night Live even). Rather, what the directors really prove is that there is an insiders club that only stand-ups and a few select fringe elements can take part in. This is shown most accurately as Gilbert Gottfried busts-up an entire room of comics at Hugh Hefner’s Friars Roast, only two weeks after the 9/11 circus. Though the clip is pretty funny, the real humor is in watching Rob Schneider fall off a couch from laughing so hard. And it all adds up to the masturbatory nature of the film. A comedian films comedians telling jokes to other comedians (BTW, if you replaced the verbs in this sentence with “f$%”, you’ve pretty much got a good start to a version of the joke). To put it succinctly: even though The Aristocrats won’t leave you gasping for air, the movie has its moments (Kevin Pollack’s impression of Christopher Walken had my girlfriend dying). If you’re not the sort to buy a comedy album and listen to it until you’ve got the routine down pat, you might not go for this sort of thing. But if you’ve got a collection that spans back to Lenny Bruce, it would hardly be right to miss this one. On a final note, I think something should be said about the reactions to the content of the joke. This is the first film I’ve been to in ages that people walked out of. Or rather, they hobbled out, holding their colostomies. I think it was around the part where Drew Carey was explaining how the grandparents got into the act by screwing their grandkids…and then eating their own sick. So don’t be surprised if the blue hairs can’t take it. Even Gracie Allen would’ve had a hard time with that one, I’m sure. For another great Bob Saget Joke, Check out this post on imdb.

Who put on the AC/DC?

I think somebody switched the middle guy's music to a Clearchannel station...but the rest are obviously groovin to the soothin' pipes of Ekki and the Flying Toasters. Anyway, I just thought this pic was pretty cool....

The Constant Gardener

The Constant Gardener Starring: Ralph Feinnes, Rachel Weisz Director: Fernando Meirelles Cinematographer: César Charlone Similar Movies: City of God, Cry Freedom Where to See It: Anywhere quality movies are showing Rating: !! (And a big “Go see this movie!”) A question to pose: Why aren’t people flocking by the dozens to see this movie??? Last week, it was only the #3 movie behind a 2nd rate British Action Film and a comedy that will undoubtedly not decline in value once transferred to a DVD. Whereas The Constant Gardener should (must?) be seen on the big screen. A romance starring Ralph Feinnes (the most accomplished romantic protagonist of the last 20 years), an international film from the director of City of God (currently ranked on IMDB.com as the #18 highest rated movie EVER), and a suspense based on a Le Carré novel, this one should be at the top of your list. I’m serious. From the opening shots of Fernando Meirelles’ new masterpiece, The Constant Gardener, it should already be apparent to the viewer that 1) Meirelles has still got the stuff, and 2) we’re in for an intense ride. This film is no joke, to be certain. From its overarching themes of undying love, the search for truth, and third-world exploitation alone, the audience has to be prepared for something heavy. Not to mention, Meirelles’ last film, City of God, was probably the most heart-wrenching (and visually stunning) film ever to come out of Brazil. Together again with cinematographer César Charlone, the director has made himself at home in a land so foreign to most western viewers, letting us see the world from yet another angle. In the urban landscape of Nairobi, Kenya, British Diplomat Justin Quayle (Feinnes) has just learned of the death of his wife Tessa (Rachel Weisz). The victim of a roadside murder, Tessa is found shot and badly burned. Arnold Bluhm (Hubert Koundé), the doctor who accompanied her on many such journeys, is missing from the scene of the crime, and quickly becomes a prime suspect. As the narrative shifts to Justin and Tessa’s first meeting and subsequent courting, the viewer is quickly brought into a world as passionate and subversive as Tessa herself. Seeing mostly through Justin’s eyes, we begin to understand the difficulties of the couple, living in an extremely taxing situation abroad. While Justin rarely seems to do anything (apart from caring for his wife and plants), Tessa is constantly laboring to help the poor and exploited Kenyan citizens. As she becomes more devoted to her cause, the only thing that becomes clearer is that she is hiding some very important details from Justin. As he begins to gather clues about her murder, which seems inextricably linked to her humanitarian efforts, Justin learns more about Tessa than he ever knew in her lifetime. The story is based on a John Le Carré novel, and the themes explored are very modern and very serious. To cut the seriousness of the most modern theme, third-world exploitation, Meirelles gives us the thrilling suspense of Justin’s search for Tessa’s killer. The two taglines for the film read, “The Conspiracy is Global” and “Love. At Any Cost.” This should pretty much spell it out. There is no sentence reading, “First-World Drama, Third World Killing.” So you should understand where the marketers are coming from. And though they are pretty much correct, I would say that this is not merely a love story, not merely a paranoid thriller. It is a combination--Suspense, Love Story, and Social Commentary. Two things caught my attention. First, the romantic connection between the two characters. The sex scene that follows their first meeting is a beautiful collage of body parts and sensual sounds. It is surprising how sexually satisfying Meirelles was able to make the scene without ever showing nudity. This should be a lesson to easy-way-out directors who choose to add “art scenes” to movies. Though I am by no means opposed to nudity, it would be nice to see some more tasteful sex scenes in movies, so we can start getting PG-13 ratings on sex instead of violence.* It is the camera work and editing that makes the whole scene so good. The shots are quick and give only pieces of the action. It is almost as if the viewer is making love with the characters. This level of inclusiveness works very well. A shirt tugged here, a boot off there, flashes of skin, a kiss…it’s really a wonderful way to put together such an intimate moment. I know that other directors have done as much, but I stress that this particular scene is extremely well put together.

look at this, and tell me they're not in love...

The second thing that caught my attention were the gorgeous shots of rural African shantytowns. As we learned from City of God, the director and cinematographer know what they are doing when it comes to filming the poorest and saddest areas of the world. Their work in The Consant Gardener only reaffirms that point. With sweeping shots of rusted roofs, children holding hands, garbage littered train-tracks, and that ethereal African dirt, Meirelles and Charlone have found yet another way to show us the beauty of the third-world. The key to this is not patronizing the viewer or the Africans. He shows it like it is: Unbelievably gorgeous, undyingly resilient, and unshakably tragic. From the two hours of shots in rural and urban Africa, there are very few that make you feel bad about who these suffering people are, who you are, who the western world is, and why it’s all so messed up. Instead, the viewer is able to walk away from the movie understanding a portion of the problems between the first and third world countries, without taking the blame personally. This should at least amount to proper box office sales. So far, though, it’s been a bit shy of hopes, I’m sure. Again, if you haven’t seen The Constant Gardener yet, get out there. Though the film will still look good on DVD, I can’t stress just how beautiful it is on the big screen. Check just the opening shots. A Shot, Birds Flocking, An Overturned Truck. That’s it. And it’s gorgeous.

* (maybe this is an issue to take up with the Beverly Hills garden club that puts these useless ratings on films...I'll drop it there)

Criss Cross!

Strangers on a Train Starring: Nobody still alive Director: Alfred "Cock" Hitchcock Rating: zzzz Warning: Heavy Sarcasm ahead... For anyone who has seen the great Billy Crystal, Danny Devito vehicle Throw Momma from the Train, Alfred Hitchcock's Strangers on a Train shouldn't look too foreign--for two reasons. Not only did Danny DeVito get his idea for "swapping murders" from the Hitchcock movie (You do my murder, I do yours....criss-cross!), but some would argue that Throw Momma is just a 1980's comedic update of Strangers. I, for one, don't care. And because I'm not a Hitchcock historian, or even a film student, I probably know less about Hitch than one would learn in a half hour of boring lecture from Dr. Filmsenshit at Northeastern Tuboobs Tech. So, let's take a crack at this one like M. Night Shamalamadingdong--haphazard, half-assed, and without remorse. The picture show begins rather innocently enough, with the piercing shreik of a train whistle. Another masterful move from the cigar-chompin mysogino. As we are whisked between the two men destined to meet on the train, it should be said that Hitch shows neither their faces, nor gives us any indication of who is who. Hence STRANGERS on a TRAIN. Is this man brilliant or what? Geez, Hitch, why not just hit us over the head with a murder weapon you're at it? When our two main characters, Bruno Anthony and Guy Haines (Robert Walker and Farley Grainger, respectively) finally meet, it is quickly apparent who is doing the duping and who is the dupe. Guy, a world-class athlete and future politician, is hardly disturbed by Bruno's knowledge of his entire life, and all of the problems therein. Bruno's slick talking sales pitch has, at first, very much to do with flattery and very little to do with a murder scheme. But, as is always the case with a classic, we get around to the point within a minute or two. Bruno wants Guy to kill his father, and in return, Bruno will kill Guy's adulterous wife. Though one might wonder why Guy doesn't, at this point, immediately shout out "Secourity", ol' Hitch apparently didn't care enough to go there. In his defense, this whole movie is based on a book...but that didn't ever stop Kubrick from going buck-wild, now did it? Back to the plot... As Guy tries desperately to forget the madman he met on the train, Bruno plans a cold-blooded murder that will leave his victim gasping in silence. After he completes the deed, it is up to Guy to decide if he should reciprocate the favor. Tailed by the police, suspected by his girlfriend Anne(Ruth Roman), and hounded by Bruno himself, Guy must clear his name and stay alive in the shadow of a psychotic killer. In true Hitchcock form, the film ends on a thrill-ride high note--aboard a merry-go-round from Hades, no less. Alright, from here I'm pretty stuck. I've been trying hard to write reviews this week, but two things have gotten in my way: 1) I drank Coca-Cola (about a liter of it) last Saturday. Ever since then, my brains have been an entire scrambled egg. No Joke...This is your brain. This is your brain on caffeine...Coffee Kills (that's my motto)! 2) I'm still steaming that my boss doesn't want me to write reviews for the company. Ever since that day, I've been struggling to get more than 50 words out about a movie. I'm doing my best just to hold my shit together and not go off at the boss. Well, back to ennui. One point of note. Robert Walker, who played Bruno Anthony in this one, died from "an adverse reaction to prescripion drugs," shortly after making Strangers. Take that as a lesson, all you Codeine chompin' Xanax fiends. Crime doesn't pay, and neither does abuse of prescription drugs. Or even abuse of caffeine. BTW, as I was researching this gem of a film, I noticed that there will be---surprise!---a remake! It's slated for 2006. Aren't we so damn lucky? Yeah...I thought so. You're not going, and neither am I... So it is set in stone, as I speak. The day that this piece of cash-in trash comes out on film will officially be "Stay at Home and Watch Hitch Day." To pay for this poor man's sins (who the f@#$ is this Noam Murro anyway, and who greenlighted him to take on the master of suspense?), I prescribe an adverse reaction to crap films, aka at least 2 movies from the big guy himself. Go to...get yours picked out and ready for this historical event. Oh, and I'll be submitting this review to the Pulitzer people...let 'em judge for themselves...

Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame

Barfly Starring: Mickey Rourke, Faye Dunaway, Frank Stallone, Jack Nance Director: Barbet Schroeder Rating: !!! Similar to: A Streetcar Named Desire, The Hustler, The Big Lebowski Where you can find it: Most Video Stores The story behind Barfly goes something like this. Barbet Schroeder calls up poet/author/drunk Charles Bukowski. The phone rings for a loooong time before Bukowski picks up. “What the f--- do you want?” “Is this Charles Bukowski?” “Maybe, who’s this?” “Barbet Schroeder. I’d like you to write a script for a movie”. Click. He calls him again. Again, it rings for a loooong time. “It pays $10,000.” “I’ll do it.” For Charles Bukowski, $10,000 must have lasted about a month at the California bars while on set for the filming of the movie…if it even made it that long. But the audience clearly got the better end of the deal. In Barfly, Bukowski developed a collection of hilarious anecdotes from his experiences in the dark alleys of our great country. To tie these snippets together, he recalled a heartbreaking romance from his younger, tenderer years. Here’s the breakdown. Henry Chinaski (Mickey Rourke), alter-ego to Charles Bukowski himself, is an up and coming poet/author/drunk living in the slums and bars of Los Angeles. The narrative follows Chinaski as he hops from drink to drink, finding trouble in the form of bartender Eddie (played by Sylvester Stallone’s brother, Frank), companionship in the form of Wanda Wilcox (Faye Dunaway), and temptation in the form of Tully Sorenson (Alice Krige). There’s really not much more to it than that. And yet, what Bukowski and director Barbet Schroeder achieve with so little is a divine caricature of romantic alcoholism. As Henry and Wanda swim through bottles, trying desperately to connect the strings of a fragile relationship, their apprehensive dialogue lets us understand exactly where it hurts most: the heart. One of the greatest scenes in the film is the first meeting between the star-crossed imbibers. As Henry sits next to her on his barstool, finishing a scotch on the rocks, Wanda waxes openly, “I don’t want to fall in love. I don’t ever want to go through that again.” Because Henry has accepted that he feels better when people are not around, the two connect on a level that only those who have plumbed the depths of drunkenness can truly appreciate. Under the auspices of magazine editor Tully Sorenson, a strange detective (played by David Lynch’s bread and butter actor, Jack Nance) follows Chinaski around the city, journaling the poet’s life. Because Sorenson believes he has a rare gift for poetry, she gives him an advance on some material and invites him back to her house, a Beverly Hills mansion. Like a tiger in his cage, Chinaski quickly denounces the lifestyle to which Sorenson wishes to elevate him. Still, the check cashed just fine. Two reasons to watch this movie: Mickey Rourke and Faye Dunaway. With the DVD release of Barfly, we are able to see a featurette about the making of the film. In it, Bukowski stands side-by-side with Rourke talking about how good he is in the role. Later, Rourke would speak negatively about both Bukowski and Barbet Schroeder. But on camera, he and Dunaway do a bang-up job. These two performances hold their own against the classic dialogue pictures A Streetcar Named Desire (Brando & Leigh), and The Hustler (Newman & Piper Laurie). The dialogue is sharp, and their connection seems so deep that it’s hard not to believe that the actors themselves were battling an impulse of love. Watch for Rourke’s bravado. Though he claims to hate macho energy, Chinaski is his own form of macho. Watch him hurl repartee at Eddie the bartender on the heels of spitting blood in the streets. Watch the bags under Dunaway’s eyes, and how good her legs look in nylons. Listen to her raspy voice as she realizes that green corn is all there was between them. Watch it all. The warning stands: If you’ve never touched a drop, you’re probably not going to enjoy this one. However, if you’ve ever given love a chance and lost, if you’ve ever sat on a barstool before 4, if you’ve ever lost your mind (even for a moment) or been burning in water, drowning in flame…give Barfly a chance. Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead. –Charles Bukowki/Henry Chinaski Discussion question: Bukowski, genius or overrated hack? Also, what is better, his poetry or his prose?

A Bale Fulla Psychotics

American Psycho Starring: Christian Bale, Reese Witherspoon, Justin Theroux, Chloë Sevigny Director: Mary Harron Rating: !!! Similar to: A Clockwork Orange, Fight Club Where you Can Find It: Anywhere comedy/splatter films are sold/rented. Also, your grocer’s freezer. American Psycho is the story of Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale), a wall-street wunderkind awash in the coke-fueled vanity of the late 1980’s. Although Bateman spends his days slashing costs and making life-or-death deals, the nights are his time to shine. With razor sharp wit, he seduces hookers and co-workers to his apartment…where he then brutally murders them with whatever weapons are on-hand. Although he seems to prefer women victims at first, by the end of the film any warm body will do (even animals work). As his murders increase, so does the rift between reality and fantasy. When American Psycho was released in 2000, it was immediately shelved in many people’s minds under “gory splatter film.” And while this is (to some extent) true, it might be time to take another look at the film through post 9-11 eyeballs. Maybe society has been too harsh on poor Patrick Bateman. Maybe it has been a bit unfair to describe the film as exploitative of women, and über-violent. Maybe this is a film for the masses. Then again, maybe not… “I think ‘American Psycho’ is very feminist…It ends up being an indictment of machismo and misogyny.” -screen-writer Guinevere Turner Turner’s words, when taken out of context, could be about any number of movies that have nothing to do with adult content. I can think of five films off-hand that ‘end up being an indictment of machismo and misogyny’, and none of them rate higher than PG-13. This is not the case with American Psycho. With several scenes depicting bloody murders, and a few containing depraved sexuality (which were edited to reduce the rating in theaters to merely ‘R’), the social commentary that Turner and director Mary Harron (I Shot Andy Warhol) aimed for tends to be lost among the chaos. And any hopes that these two women might have had for ennobling the masses and squelching the gender-gap die quite rapidly after the first 15 minutes. This movie is an adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis’s novel of the same name, and those who have read the book (I have not…) seem to find it an accurate representation. In fact, there are still--four years later--discussions on numerous message boards whether or not the film/book is the description of a serial killer, or a satire about 1980’s power-vanity. And while that debate may continue for years to come, Ellis has entered the discussion via his new book “Lunar Park.”. "I thought the idea was laughable - that there was no one as insane and vicious as this fictional character out there in the real world. Besides, Patrick Bateman was a notoriously unreliable narrator, and if you actually read the book you could come away doubting that these crimes had even occurred. There were large hints that they existed only in Bateman's mind. The murders and torture were in fact fantasies fueled by his rage and fury about how life in America was structured and how this had - no matter the size of his wealth - trapped him. The fantasies were an escape. This was the book's thesis. It was about society and manners and mores, and not about cutting up women. How could anyone who read the book not see this? Yet because of the severity of the outcry over the novel the fear that maybe it wasn't such a laughable idea was never far away; always lurking was the worry about what might happen if the book fell into the wrong hands." –Excerpt from Lunar Park Regardless of what Ellis had intended, it is obvious that Turner and Harron wanted to create a satire as brutal as Fight Club, and twice as cutting. They achieve this by keeping the violence unrealistic. Those who have read the book talk incessantly about how little of the violent/sexual imagery is included in the movie. Rather the attention seems, at first, to be focused on the disgusting behavior of Bateman’s yuppie friends. As the men sit around cigar bars sharing misogynist views of women, Bateman can’t handle their smug self-congratulations. His first murder is only alluded to, his second is shown violently, and after that the blood spirals comically out of control. Because there is very little realistic gore, the viewer is allowed (almost totally) to disconnect from the negative imagery. And, actually, that lack of connection works against what could otherwise have been an even more poignant statement about ‘machismo and misogyny.’