A biography entitled:
Wasted: The Story of My Son's Drug Addiction
was written 1n 1972 and this movie in many ways parallels that story and may well have inspired the movie, but apparently half the population of Detroit as
one example could do the same.
The film graphically deals with a mentally devastated young man, a cutter, (self mutilator) homeless and demented, wordlessly and vindictively groveling through endless grueling days on the street, where he lives a life of ceaseless abuse from himself and others, a human garbage can.
I don't think he peaks one word in the movie. There are a lot of flashbacks that flit through his carefree days on near infancy, and his current life as a staggering helpless adult infant show there has been zero growth or progress in twenty-odd years.
It's graphic and pathetic and disgusting but not particularly moving or empathy inspiring. This is because the character is not sympathetic, harbors a lot of escalating latent rage, that means on some level he has an awareness of his vast separation from the society upon which he's become a loathsome parasite.
It isn't so much a story as a tone piece. Whether he's vomiting on himself or giving strangers oral sex in public toilets to get a few pennies, or urinating in the beer bottles of people he doesn't like, or slashing his arms for relief, the movie is just a chronicle of desperate isolation and degradation that doesn't carry any message beyond whatever you want to bring to it.
Homelessness is bad. Mental illness is tough. It's a cold cruel world. Or, predominantly, just, Yecccchhhhh!
I would not call it a good movie, but it keeps you watching . Every day is the same and the pathos doesn't appear to be dramatically escalating so much as evolving in it's own natural momentum and evolution, but since it's a movie, we know it needs to have some sort of ending, which can't be good, and so one watches to see the directorial decision.
Then again, if gross pointless boredom about a gross pointless non verbal life sounds appealing, you couldn't ask for a better film.
I see I'm the first to review it. That's never happened to me before. It suggests no one could get past the first 3 minutes, or if they did, could not even bring themselves to comment.
The film graphically deals with a mentally devastated young man, a cutter, (self mutilator) homeless and demented, wordlessly and vindictively groveling through endless grueling days on the street, where he lives a life of ceaseless abuse from himself and others, a human garbage can.
I don't think he peaks one word in the movie. There are a lot of flashbacks that flit through his carefree days on near infancy, and his current life as a staggering helpless adult infant show there has been zero growth or progress in twenty-odd years.
It's graphic and pathetic and disgusting but not particularly moving or empathy inspiring. This is because the character is not sympathetic, harbors a lot of escalating latent rage, that means on some level he has an awareness of his vast separation from the society upon which he's become a loathsome parasite.
It isn't so much a story as a tone piece. Whether he's vomiting on himself or giving strangers oral sex in public toilets to get a few pennies, or urinating in the beer bottles of people he doesn't like, or slashing his arms for relief, the movie is just a chronicle of desperate isolation and degradation that doesn't carry any message beyond whatever you want to bring to it.
Homelessness is bad. Mental illness is tough. It's a cold cruel world. Or, predominantly, just, Yecccchhhhh!
I would not call it a good movie, but it keeps you watching . Every day is the same and the pathos doesn't appear to be dramatically escalating so much as evolving in it's own natural momentum and evolution, but since it's a movie, we know it needs to have some sort of ending, which can't be good, and so one watches to see the directorial decision.
Then again, if gross pointless boredom about a gross pointless non verbal life sounds appealing, you couldn't ask for a better film.
I see I'm the first to review it. That's never happened to me before. It suggests no one could get past the first 3 minutes, or if they did, could not even bring themselves to comment.
