Biosalong

Oh no!

It's Ti West, so no surprise that it's immediately stylized with a strong late-70s/early-80s environment and credit sequence.

Beautifully framed, high-contrast black-and-white misty seascapes and a bunch of tight zooms on a grizzly, crazy-faced, pirate-talking Willem Dafoe?

Connor MacLeod (Christopher Lambert, known for such films as… err… Highlander) sword fights with a flipping businessman ninja in the car park under a modern-day NYC wrestling match, chops off his head, and absorbs his electric charge like Kirby.

A young, hip, working class slacker wakes up on the floor of his mostly-empty new low-rent L.A. apartment and meets the young, hip, working class slacker neighbor.

Fast-paced, schizophrenic, low-brow, trying-to-hard high school movie satire shot like a less cool Scott Pilgrim.

Jean-Pierre Léaud, star of The 400 Blows and Masculin Féminin, plays Henri, a boring, lonely French man living in the U.K. who gets unceremoniously fired from his job of 15 years with zero notice.

An awful film transition fades in to an extremely awkward narrator delivering a terrible introduction right to the camera, and then it cuts to a still frame of a gold-painted naked woman for the credits, followed by a severely underexposed scene of a car…

A bunch of excessively millenial L.A. millenials break up and get fired and vocally fry at each other.

A bunch of awkward hipsters in The Life Aquatic clothing are in a Karl Marx book club on the beach.

Temperamental Alfred Hitchcock-y string instruments waiver and warble over the credits and images of fetuses, then it jumps abruptly into the low-budget, flatly-lit set which then zooms out with a slide whistle to show that it's intentionally flatly lit b…

Early 90s overly-computerized techno-space-sci-fi starring Dylan McDermott, dad in American Horror Story: Season 1.

Haunting, droning synths and violins slowly guide our high-flying drone cameras to a nice little stone palace, where a hipster millenial lady is living in a tent and capturing photos of the front door with a DSLR on a time-lapse timer.

Opening credits are an extremely dated 3D CGI tour through the human circulatory system, with all the quality of a Def Leppard music video.

The start of what is considered the cousin film trilogy to Slumber Party Massacre, despite sharing no story nor actors nor directors nor writers nor producers.

It's best to just rip off the band-aid, so double-featured this with the abysmal second act.

The second in the series, this one opens with much less-blatant sexual exploitation and a clip show of what we missed in the last film, followed by a nearly full-length karaoke music video to help us connect with the main girl, Courtney, who is in an all-…

The name strongly implies this will be a hyper-sexualized, sexist smut horror, and the topless woman in the first shot agrees.

A Stephen King classic that I've never seen before, with very famous cover art.

James Spader (i.e.

Illegal brain chips make people into psychopaths, someone dresses up in a Babadook-style children's horror fantasy fairytale outfit and hunts psychopaths.

A Mad Detective reboot with the same Mad Detective doing the same Mad Detective schtick, except this time he sees almost-dead people's ghosts instead of fully alive people's alter egos.

Two hours of obnoxious theater kids talking to each other in thick millenial accents, but somehow not as bad as it sounds.

This detective really is mad, a refreshing change from "mad" detectives that are merely quirky or emotionally haunted.

You know, for kids!

Before Midsommar, Florence Pugh tried something closer to A Midsommar Night's Dream.

Ryūhei Sasaki loses his nice white collar, middle-class management job.

A very strange little narration about a black cat who asks a scarecrow what the most precious thing in the world is, and then sets it on fire.

Solid forgotten 90s thriller, but a bit of a letdown when it chooses the most obvious potential ending.

Serial Experiments: Lain meets Fight Club.

Takashi Miike wonders if he can remake Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels in Kabukichō, Japan.

A partially-coherent parade of simple-minded, farcical slapstick comedy routines, loosely following Do-re-mi, a former cabaret clown cum military tuba player, as he tries to hunt down Shu-Shu, the girl he met once under a bridge.

Brandon Cronenberg, intent on proving that he's not exclusively bound to follow in his father's body horror footsteps, casts Alexander Skarsgård and Mia Goth to act out a bunch of his sexual fetishes on screen.

Korean Memento, more or less.

The president's airplane is hijacked so he pops out of an escape pod into Manhattan, a now 80s retro future apocalyptic prison island.

A first-person narration tells us about how she wished she was witchy when she watched witch movies.

Watched on an airplane, notes from phone.

Watched on an airplane, notes from phone.

Cronenbergian body horror premised on the cultural belief that women "expire" when they get older.

Shot entirely on a slightly distorted wide-angle, which seems to be handheld but on some janky stabilizing rig with weird movements.

I saw it on an airplane and the airplane was broken, so it started from the last 10 minutes, for which I wrote: "An endlessly repeated manufactured action drama, the two main characters almost dying dozens of times over a few minutes.

Watched on an airplane, notes from phone.

Watched on an airplane, notes from phone.

The opening scene, some kids playing baseball in the Colorado 70s, is underexposed.

Isabella Rossellini teaches us a lot more than we need to know about the absurd and perverted mating habits of animals.

Beat Takeshi really hates kids, so he sends them all to an island to brutally murder each other.

Hot on the heels of The Howling, Joe Dante is back with a Christmasy black comedy about cute little furbies that reproduce when damp and turn into house-demolishing pests if you feed them at the wrong time, not entirely unlike owning a husky.

Johnny Depp's giant-eyed daughter, Lily-Rose, stars in a Sweeney Todd-esque desaturated world of sadness and despair.

A low-key Korean vampire tale that spirals insanely into a surrealist Tell-tale Heart.

A horny Korean Rashomon filled with M.