Tweek City is a week in the life of Bill, a potentially closeted, half-Latino, small-time speed dealer in San Francisco's Mission District. Bill is stuck on an endless walk from one empty ...
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Tweek City is a week in the life of Bill, a potentially closeted, half-Latino, small-time speed dealer in San Francisco's Mission District. Bill is stuck on an endless walk from one empty experience to the next. Only Bill's friend Jerm has the ability to connect and ground him in reality. When Jerm makes an ill-advised stage dive, Bill plunges into a downward spiral that takes him on a nocturnal journey through the streets of San Francisco and ultimately down to Los Angeles where he crashes his high school sweetheart's wedding. From his sleep-deprived, hallucinogenic state, Bill fails miserably in a desperate attempt to reconnect with his first and only love. With nowhere else to go, Bill jacks a car and ends up at the deserted drive-in theater of his childhood where he is forced to confront the ghosts that he had tried to leave behind. Written by
Abysmally low-rent, Tweek City is a pretty good movie-for the amateur production that it is. Anyone else expecting even B-grade standards may struggle to keep this somewhat admirable, though mainly pathetic student film on. While the lead performer does exhibit a pretty natural feel for his speed-dealing, paranoid head case self, he is surrounded by supporting characters who could have been pulled from a local audition. And although this director does weave a few interesting perspectives to immerse his viewer into the screwed up mentality that guides this brief and undercooked excursion, the prime focus between character exchanges all but makes one ill at the porno-level technicality displayed through the lens. For the extremely low budget shoot that it was, I am surprised to see a mass release- the short, forgettable "psycological character study" does not retain enough screen energy to involve nearly any casual viewers. I can only recommend this for the hardest of hardcore- movie watchers that is, not drug users, for the feint distinction of having created something slightly more then any generic local production that pervades the cesspools of wannabe artistry.
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