silent hill: revelation 3D (2012)

this movie is halloween store merch covered in soot; a synthesis of scuzz and a total lack of texture that feels disarmingly personal in an agoraphobic mall goth kind of way, in which faux-distressed polyester and plastic endure regular damage they were not intended to withstand. this means nothing to other people but that’s why this exact brand of insular millennial angst resonates so strongly with me. that the total embodiment of chaotic evil is a raccoon-eyed teen goth feels extra-important in a way I can’t even begin to describe.

the way this film operates is emo as fuck because it’s deeply invested in its defense mechanisms, which paradoxically doom it to being written off as trash. and I mean, it kind of is, and maybe the movie even claims it <i>wants</i> to be dismissed as such, but truthfully that is merely a means of bracing itself for the uniform rejection that it sees as inevitable. we always deride movies like this. the broken, the incomplete statements. raw emotion never adds up to anything cohesive. a film this truthful can only exist as a a series of fragments, B-stories and cutaways toward dead ends. there is something to be said for the depiction of a mounting sense of unnamed dread that begets a world unreadable to those who might seek to harm. for about ninety minutes, a crushing anxiety extends in all directions as the film sinks deeper into itself, against all systems including its own carousel of cleansing fire spiraling around its constructed world.

legitimately didn't think this could get any better, and then Malcolm McDowell showed up.

of the few films directed by trans women, Carrie-Anne Moss is in half of them and they’re all perfect. and I can't really imagine a more trans trait than giving a special thanks to Monster in the credits of your movie, so this represents the community well.

infernal girl vibes spring eternal. I am a fire that burns forever and ever. amen.

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