Monday, October 7, 2019

3 from Hell (2019)

Delicious. This movie is late-night maniac deliciousness. Reading all of the reviews of 3 from Hell is an illuminating view of Internet dickholes that are far more concerned with their own self-aggrandizing than the topic of discussion. I fucking love this movie. When I checked the production budget, my pants got wet. This is a 3 fucking million dollar film. That is absolutely nothing and absolutely incredible.

If you did not like this movie, then you probably went to the wrong fucking movie. It is that simple. What did you expect from a movie that revives characters after 20 bullet holes rip through their bodies? I have an original Baby and Otis action figure from Corpses and The Devil’s Rejects poster on my wall, and I remain proud.

I saw Manson and Rob last year after sleeping with Edwin’s girlfriend for two days straight. We left after Manson, because we’d seen Rob so many times. Well, and, she’s a lame ass, gave me diarrhea for days the first time I slept with her. No lie. Still have the prescription that I needed to stop the diarrhea. Weird huh? I know, it’s fucking scary. Baby Diftwood stabbing you in the stomach scary. The human mindbrain works in dark and mysterious ways. That’s not necessarily a good thing for any gothy twerps reading this madness.

The diarrhea simply would not stop, all day, all night. At the time, I tried to tell myself that it was not her, but it was. She revealed more than a decade later (drunk, not realizing the entire structure of lies she built throughout the years) that she was with several partners, across a variety of genders, when we first met. You’d think promiscuous people would be more exciting and more fun in bed. They are not. You may also think that promiscuous people are somehow more “sexual people” and better in bed than others. They are not. From my experience, they are mediocre, unlike a $3 million Rob Zombie film.

I did not mind missing a Rob Zombie concert, but I did miss the sneak-peek trailer for 3 from Hell. While that was disappointing, the movie was awesome. I was hoping for more from the movie, and I did not like it as much as I thought I would. However, I also did not know that it was produced with a $3 million production budget. I thought it was going to be some sort of $30-million blowout simply turning up the body-count dial to insanity. Therein lays another charming element of the film: A forced increase of dead bodies is precisely what it did not do. That is what common convention says what a filmmaker is supposed to do, and it is bullshit. In my opinion, the principle takes control of the entire cinematic process and labels consumer hooks as creativity. It is probably not the approach one should take when fleshing out a story about escaped lunatics in digital grindhouse.

Who cares!? I fucking love it. Why? Because I can.  Because I love Rob Zombie movies. Because Sheri Moon Zombie is absolutely amazing. The characters often argue about who the star of the show is. Baby. Always Baby. Without Baby, the movie is just two grimy old men being grimy old psychopathic men. Either way, I love them both too.

The soundtrack/score for the film is wet-your-pants good, delicious. The Rejects trilogy of soundtracks is available on vinyl later this month, and I want all three! They look beautiful. I read an interview in which Rob says that he didn’t plan to make a sequel to Corpses, he did not plan to make a sequel to Rejects, and he currently does not have plans to make a sequel to 3 from Hell. I hope Rob makes a forth. I love these characters.

Growing up and throughout my life, I developed stories and characters. A friend got mad at me once, because I was not plot driven enough (except he did not articulate it in this manner.) He explained that I generally only care about developing characters and ignore plot (again, he did not articulate it in this manner, and I was also a child.) The experience pulled me away from creating and nurturing characters. This is flawed. It is taught that story is everything, and it is. But at the same time it is not, because characters are everything.

This is merely my own bit of personal film theory: we can make a good film with awesome characters but no story; we cannot film a story without characters. There’s an element of, “No duh,” but there is far more to unpack in that statement than is necessary in a rant about a grindhouse movie. Ultimately, this is a bit of the underlying thesis of Slacker by Richard Linklater. It’s simply a feature-length presentation of a bunch of wack-a-doo characters. He does this again in a dream with Waking Like. In fact, most of Linklater’s work is simply character driven. Technically, Dazed and Confused has a plot. However, that’s just any random end of school year day and the exploration of the characters within it. When going back to watch this film, do we watch it to rediscover the plot points or meet up and hangout with old friends?

In all honesty, I’m biased. Aren’t we all? I was bound to love this movie. It’s delicious. I wrote delicious down before the movie even started. I bought the movie poster before I saw the film. The east wall of my bedroom will now feature The Devil’s Rejects on one side and 3 from Hell on the other, and as I said, it’s delicious. It did not give me uncontrollable diarrhea the first time around. Perhaps this is a low standard, but I am exploring this area of my psyche through film and otherwise.

Along with Leatherface, I consider the Driftwoods my family. They warm my heart and bring a literal tear to my eye as does the passing of Sid Haig. I am not the type to type out ineffectual weeping for celebrities regardless of my level of fandom. That said, while seeing 3 from Hell helped balance my brain chemicals, it also marks the loss of the best film clown of all time. I fucking said it, “The best film clown of all time.” There is nothing hyperbolic about the sentiment: Sid Haig was the best fucking film clown of all time.

The Internet sucks. Why are there so many manboys whining about a $3 million grindhouse movie? What are you going to make for $3 million? Dogshit. Utter dogshit. Poorly acted, badly lit dogshit. You’d tap in some iPhone filters for explosions and gun shots, call yourself an auteur, and it would be utter dogshit. Dumb. Dumb dogshit. The Internet is dogshit. You are doghit. It is an excellent little movie released when heaps of garbage are slung out for no less than $300 million for mommies to placate their kids and boyhusbands. The combo pack comes out in less than two weeks! 

Delicious.