Monday, July 14, 2008

Suspense: Another Lost Art...

I know I talk a big game about loving independent film; I know I pride myself on the fact that I opted to go that route straight out of college instead of working my way up as some d-bag producer's assistant, picking tomatoes out of salads, ordering espressos at 150 degrees, and paying multiple cell phone bills; but I am also woman enough to admit that not all independent film is a gift from God. In fact, some of it is just crap that no legit company wanted to produce, and after awhile, you have to think that maybe there's a reason for that...

There's a new horror/thriller film that just premiered in London but is getting a small release here as well called (wait for it...) Donkey Punch. Yes, Donkey Punch. Apparently it is a tale of a few young, wealthy kids who party on a yacht, drink too much, do some drugs, and have some random sex (so basically it's like The Real World on the water, or the behind-the-scenes of The Hills). Something goes horribly wrong for one couple during a very specific sex act, and the rest of the group decides to pull an I Know What You Did Last Summer: they dump the body overboard and (assumedly) vow to never speak of what happened because hey, it was all just a "tragic accident" anyway. I wonder if liability insurance covers rich a-hole syndrome? Anyway, then paranoia or fear or whatever sets in and begins pitting friend against friend (or at least against new acquaintance), and they begin to kill each other one at a time, in a "last man standing" sort of theme.

My question is, though, what exactly is the draw of a movie when you don't even have the suspense of wondering during what sex act the girl will die?

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