Not a popular, or especially cogent rationale, but I sincerely believe that frequently exposing sensation-seeking minds to ever more jarringly skewed genre films like D. I. Y Grindhouse iconoclast Dave A. Adams's fascinatingly unnatural, reality tweaking psycho thriller 'Another Son of Sam' might constructively disrupt your synapses with more paradigm shifting intensity than ingesting a bathtub of DMT! ASOS isn't so much cinema as a miraculous lapse of reason, while the stylistic apparatus utilised herein is continuously clumsy, this apparently guileless mise en scene flagrantly confounds all the inexorable laws of rational filmmaking, and yet, Adams brusquely draws you smilingly into his doubtlessly earnest, deliciously dopey, spectacularly rudimentary 70s serial killer yarn. I don't believe anyone can ever consciously set out to make a tantalizingly torpid slasher with the abundantly outre charms of 'Another Son of Sam'; like squalling Typhoons, male pattern baldness, city sucking sinkholes and three-headed Hagfish, nature will out, dude!!!