Beaucoup De Sang

Sweet, merciful antichrist, I have sucked this month. Well, sucked at adding stuff to this site, not sucked in general. Well, maybe that too. Depends who you ask.

ANYWAY!

What with directing a show, starting practice for swimming, course loads, obscene lack of sleep, and college night life, I have legit just forgot to write stuff. And I apologize. I'll do better... I hope.

Ok, on to the review.

I am Spartacus Theseus!

Incestuous Pugilism

Day 10 of my justification of what is, quite possibly, the most intense man-crush in the history of man-crushes gets really absurd.

This may sound weird, but hitmen fascinate me. Well, hitmen as characters fascinate me; I don't know about the real people; I don't know any... I don't think. Anyway, contract killers as characters in film have always been interesting, and usually provide some seriously meaty substance. Pulp Fiction anyone? How bout' In Bruges? Ok, the point has been made. They usually make conflicted and complicated characters that we are continually invested in. Well, it would seem that these traits, or any traits that make up a good film, were deemed not necessary to add to the pot when creating Shadowboxer. This is a pretty terrible movie, and yet, I find myself, strangely, not hating it. This is a classic example of a film, so wonderfully over the top, so friggin' absurd, so unapologetically demented and insane, that a full lambasting would just seem like cruelty.

Creepiest! Affair! Ever!