Let's consider the ways the filmmaker and star tried to generate attention and credibility for this abortion. Within the first minute, there's an explicit blowjob. Hmm. What other movie did that...something with, oh yeah, 2/3 of the same title. Remember how much attention The Brown Bunny got for that scene? Couldn't hurt. Next step is to have all of the roles played by non-actors. Brilliant! Of course, they'll most likely, you know, suck at acting...but with a story as pure gold as this one, who needs acting? It'll be a cinema verite type of thing.
As for that can't-miss story - here it is:a prostitute does a lot of cocaine and has sex with guys for money to buy more cocaine. She gets picked up by a trucker who takes her out of town and torments her for days on end. Then some other dude shows up and takes her away.
I would rather have an MRI done during an earthquake than watch this movie again. It's not the subject matter that offends. Repulsive subjects often make movies I quite like. This, however, is lacking in every respect. The editing is infuriating. What is obviously intended to disturb and shock is just grating and forced. It isn't shocking. It's lame. The acting is wretched. Apparently this movie was unscripted (no shit, Sherlock) and so scenes were drawn up and the actors just vamped the shit out of them. This results in a 75 minute movie feeling like it's as endless as the director's cut of Das Boot. And I call bullshit on the "real" aspects of this, namely the fact that 2 actors were BRANDED TOTALLY FOR REAL because of the POWERFUL ART OF THIS REAL FUCKING MOVIE DUDE. Yeah, they are both branded. Obviously, though, the cheesy design of the brand makes it pretty clear everyone agreed on it before it happened. Yes, that's the way it should be, too...I just resent the hucksterism of claiming it's so brutally unexpected blah blah.
Also, it's in black and white because ART. Dude, Eraserhead is in black and white. Also, Eraserhead qualifies as art. The Bunny Game doesn't. If you want to experience this movie without tracking it down or wasting 75 minutes of your life, imagine Yosemite Sam sticking his tongue out, huffing paint out of a plastic bag, and yelling at a woman who can't act and isn't wearing clothes. Repeat. For added ambiance, lean against the last octave or two of a Casio keyboard while you're doing that.
I know I've seen worse movies than this one. Not many of them took themselves so seriously while being so damn shitty, though.
Tomorrow: Inside
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