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.