As far as The Duke can tell, in so far as I could be arsed for to explore, there seems to be something of a battle going on in the field of web-net filmic criticism. Nobody's gonna get their arms cut off, most likely, and probably you don't even have to paint your face blue, but a man's reputation could be fucked in the guts if caught unawares in the crossfire.
What it is, is a race of sorts. Put your ear to the ground and what you'll hear are thousands of digital feet scurrying in and out of festivals, hoping for to be the first voice that proclaims "This flick what you never saw FUCKING RULES!!!! And also, I saw it. And FIRST, you FUCKERS"
Folks are battering their laptops senseless as they queue up for to view the latest offering on the festival circuit. The one that made the waves in Tribal Dance or whatever the fuck the one is that Robert DeNiro started. Sunnysides. The hell do I know?
Well, far be it from The Duke to blow his own trumpet, certainly not in public, but just last week I attended a screening of a certain flick which, I feel confident in assuming, will blow the sweet bejeesus out of audiences from now till doomsday.
What it was, was a film by the name of Casablanca, some low-key indie thing like Vincent Gallo Gets Sucked Off or Donnie Osmond or whatever the one was with the rabbit. I already had terms like Casawanka in store, should said picture suck like all wretched Hades. "Casablanca fires Casablanks" I had intended to note. "Casablanca - shite" was another one. But no. It turns out this is nothing short of a fucking masterpiece.
I hardly made a note through the whole damn thing, is the point to be made. This one's gonna go far, man, mark my words like as if they were bandits out to pillage your hole.
What Casablanca concerns is a fella by the name of Rick is something of a big shot in the world of taverns. He's probably got his face on all sorts of magazines, like Bars Monthly or Time Out - 100 Hottest Names In Licensed Establishments. We know he's important, since the first time we see him, it does that thing like in the start of Commando when you just see Arnie's feet, and then his arms, and a bit of a tree, and you're thinking about Oh my God, is it gonna be Arnie? Maybe it's somebody else. Maybe it's Chris Tucker. You're all suspenseful and then when you see that yeah, it's Arnie all right, you let a big sigh of relief. Thank fuck for that, you muse. For a second I thought it might be Rita Hayworth.
Article comments
1 - Eric Berlin
Duke, you lucky bastard, lording your Top Secret Access and High Falutin cinema insidery over the rest of us poor shlubs (American/Yiddish term meaning castabout workaday no festival-seeing shnooks).
I don't know how you do it, man.
2 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
well, i got sources, is all i'll say. although i'll say some other stuff along the lines of, "they grant me access to top-secret films that nobody will ever see for probably another three or four decades"