A reaction to the 10/12 Screening at the Green Lantern
By Bill Widener
A smear, a warble, a robotic “RECORD” in the corner, and there’s a blurry figure in the background, hunching a trash curbie like an arthritic mutt. Some coot with a mug like a mummy takes a sprig of leaves and, almost tenderly, begins to fellate it. A boney old broad in a brassy, ratty wig thrusts her pelvis into another garbage can. It’s too freakish to be real, but look: the tape jumps artlessly from cut to cut and the machine demands “TRACK”. There’s no obvious narrative: things just happen, idiotic and appalling things, and danged if she don’t sound just like Aunt Gossie who had the pill problem.