Some Kind Of Monster
In retrospect it's obvious: Therapy and Metal were absolutely made for each other. Both make common currency of histrionic self-aggrandisement, making drama queens out of very ordinary people; both make sacramental rituals of empty slogans and exagerated gestures; and both make a virtue of impotent sound and fury (signifying nothing much at all). It's a creatively explosive mixture: Therapy's genius for suppression and deflection, and Metal's sublimated male rage and impotence. Manufacture a few crises, put it all together, and -- blam! -- we get to watch Lars, James, and Kirk -- basically decent guys -- struggle to make sense of the empty slogans and touchy-feelgood speeches of their highly-paid Svengali. I guess I expected more violence. Oh well. By the end of the film I actually cared about these guys...(Part of Flix).
Labels: flix
2 Comments:
boy, you're on a roll at the moment! so many posts, so little time.
Thanks. The big question is how long I can sustain this :-). Apparently the average length of time a blog is active is three years -- I guess I'm at the half way point...
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