A Note From A Patron on Ex-Drummer

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I received a wonderful note today from someone who saw Ex-Drummer over the weekend. His distillation of the film is pretty much spot on. Since the press didn’t seem to pick up on the nuances that he did I just wanted to share this with the blog readers. The film screens through Thursday. Definitely try to make it out!

Sean here, from Pistil Books. I just wanted to say, thank you so much for showing Ex Drummer. I just saw it this evening and was blown away. Really an impressive piece of film making and exactly what independent cinema is all about. This is why NWFF needs to be: I’m certain this film will never be shown in mainstream venues because it’s too “punk” and too graphically depicts the rage, the malice, and the sour-cunted truth of what from afar we see only as a quaint little country with maybe some monks brewing oddly flavored beer. Who knew Belgium had an underclass?

It’s a very impressive adaptation to film of much of what punk means: a reinterpretation of normalcy cut to the chase to what the real motivations of our so-called culture are; a willingness to cut, splice and even run backwards the scenes of our lives in an effort to readdress just why and how gud should save the queen. Thus we have the character who is upside down in his room, the ad-hoc compression or extension of time, the way in at least one scene the punch takes place after the long reaction scene, and the amazing some 400 cuts of the 3 1/2 minute band climax. That’s some real film making. Everything gets questioned in a phantasm of simple plot structure: Band seeks new member. The misogyny and racism and fag-baiting and child abuse and mental patient neglect and of course the vile mistreatment and manipulation of the poor by the wealthy: a good many of the evils of our society are stripped of the niceties of the educated class and shown for what they are by a bunch of lumbering frustrated men handicapped by the same structure that spawned them. It is black humor at its very best. I loved how the supposed protagonist, repeatedly shown being the clever dueler, smoking as he head-butts even the snarling skinhead with offhanded disinterest, riding his motorcycle all over with music playing ends up stabbing in the back same skinhead as he digs in the fridge to retrieve a beer. There’s the captains of industry for you, or media in this case… Really lovely. The straight-jacketed father figure turns out to be a crazed militarist who plugs the whole cast in the end. It’s just quaint, and casts a vaporous, misty shadow over the 1/2 of every tax dollar this country puts towards attacking 3rd world nations that sit on resources our queen wants. The last montage of Big Dick raping the daughter of the Ministry of Hygiene (though she apparently succeeds in cutting his cock off) juxtaposed with Dad killing everyone cut with the writer making love to his wife/girlfriend is one of the hardest watch 10 minutes of film I have ever seen. It doesn’t just titillate your imagination in the comfort of your armchair like a PBS documentary, but brutally and starkly presents the elegance of how those who manipulate the media go about the pleasantries of their lives as the direct repercussions of their behavior unfold in blood and bile and sperm 20 stories down, with no view.

It’s an amazing piece of work, important, lively, underfunded and unshown.

— Sean

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