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Lizzie Brocheré (born March 22, 1985) is a French film, television, and theatre actress who began working as a child actress in 1995 and has become a strong television and film presence in French cinema. She moved to strong English-speaking roles in the early 2010s, with appearances in dark comedic and dramatic pieces from Jean Marc Barr (One to Another, with Arthur Dupont and Karl E. Landler), Eric Schaeffer (After Fall, Winter, 2011) and Brad Falchuk and Ryan Murphy (American Horror Story: Asylum, 2012–2013), in which she played Grace Bertrand.


Lizzie Brocheré was born in Paris, France. Beginning her acting career at the age of 10 in the 1995 television film Parents à mi-temps, Brocheré would go on to play a string of small roles in television films and series, including Les Enquêtes d'Éloïse Rome, Sydney Fox l'aventurière, Camping Paradis and Sauveur Giordano. In 2001, the 16-year-old Brocheré made her debut on the big screen as Jeanne in Hugo Santiago's Le Loup de la côte ouest (English: The Wolf of the West Coast), which screened at the Montreal Film Festival to mixed reviews.


Brocheré played the supporting role of Gladys in Bernard Rapp's Un petit jeu sans conséquence (2004). In the same year she landed the recurring role of Eva in the television series Alex Santana, négociateur (2004–2007). In an overlapping commitment, she played the recurring character Cécile Chalonges in the French-Swiss television series R.I.S, police scientifique (2006–2008), a remake of an Italian crime drama.


Brocheré also starred in the Chacun sa nuit (2006, English: One to Another), directed by Jean-Marc Barr and Pascal Arnold, as the character Lucie alongside (Arthur Dupont and Karl E. Landler), a part for which she was preselected as Best Newcomer in the French Cesars.


In 2007, she was also awarded Best Newcomer at the Luchon Film Festival for her lead in comedy Bac+70, where she stars alongside Pierre Mondy. Brocheré played the leading role in Karin Albou's film Le Chant des mariées (2008), portraying Myriam, a Jewish Tunisian young woman in Tunisia in World War II, which won the Festival du Film de l’Outaouais 2009 (Quebec).


Individually, she was awarded Best Actress for this role at the St Jean de Luz Film Festival. She then played series regular Elina, a Russian policewoman, in Les Bleus (2009).


In 2010, she played in a second film directed by Jean-Marc Barr and Pascal Arnold, which was released in June 2011, the French-English American Translation, a psychological thriller. She shot her first action movie Nuit Blanche (2011), directed by Frederic Jardin, where she played a minor role alongside Tomer Sisley and Joey Starr, as a young inexperienced policewoman. She then went on to play a fully English-speaking role as Sophie in the Eric Schaeffer's dark adult comedic drama After Fall, Winter(2011).


In April 2012 she was cast in a recurring role as Grace Bertrand in the American thriller/horror series American Horror Story: Asylum, the second season of that Brad Falchuk and Ryan Murphy franchise.


Subsequent and current film and television work include credited roles in The Mark of the Angels: Miserere (2013, feature film, Dounia), Braquo (2014, TV series, recurring as Oriane), Deux petites filles en bleu (2014, TV film, Séverine), as well as short film and single episode American television appearances (e.g., The Strain, 2015). She is reported to be in filming in 2015 with the feature Full Contact.



Il Sorpasso (Italian for "the overtaking"; English: The Easy Life) is a 1962 Italian cult movie comedy film co-written and directed by Dino Risi and starring Vittorio Gassman, Jean-Louis Trintignant and Catherine Spaak.


It is considered Risi's masterpiece and one of the more famous examples of Commedia all'italiana film genre.


The film starts in a hazy, sun-baked and seemingly empty Rome on an August morning during Ferragosto holiday. A young, timid law student, Roberto (Trintignant), gazing out his window, is asked for trivial favor, a phone call, by a 40-ish man named Bruno (Gassman), who is passing on the street below at the wheel of a convertible Lancia Aurelia.


The young man tells him to come up and make the call himself. After Bruno fails to contact his friends — he is running a full hour late for his meeting with them, something he apparently doesn't find a good motive for them to have "abandoned" him— he insists on repaying Roberto's courtesy with an aperitivo. Tired of studying for the day and falling prey to Bruno's enthusiasm, the young man accepts.


Thus begins a cruise along the Via Aurelia, the Roman road that also gives the name to Bruno's beloved car. Roberto is unwilling or unable to part from this casual acquaintance despite having almost nothing in common with him. Bruno is loud, brash, risk taking, a bit coarse and a braggart, to boot. He drives recklessly, speeding and constantly attempting "il Sorpasso" — the impatient and aggressive practice of serial tailgating and honking to overtake other cars on the road. But he is also charming and likable. And Roberto, being his complete opposite, feels drawn to Bruno's impulsive, devil-may-care attitude.


Over two days of highs and lows across the coasts of Lazio and Tuscany, the two men fall into various adventures while gradually managing to learn something of each other.


When, for example, the duo spontaneously drops in on Roberto's relatives, en route, the young law student suddenly realizes that his childhood wasn't as golden as he'd always imagined. And later he finds out about Bruno's failed marriage and young daughter, revealing a life not nearly as carefree as Bruno pretends to lead.


When this free-wheeling road-trip movie crescendos to its dramatic ending, the bonding and emerging friendship between the two men is cut short. Spurred on by a seemingly transformed Roberto, Bruno speeds while attempting to overtake another car on the blind curve of a cliffside road.


This risky maneuver results in a fatal accident. The younger man goes over a rocky cliff in the car, leaving a bloodied and shocked Bruno on the curve's edge. When a motorway cop arrives and asks Bruno for Roberto's last name, the survivor realizes he does not even know it.


The movie is considered as one of the best examples of Commedia all'Italiana. Film critics frequently acknowledge that the story offers a poignant portrait of Italy in the early 1960s, when the "economic miracle" (dubbed the "boom" — using the actual English word — by the local media) was starting to transform the country from a traditionally agricultural and family-centered society into a shallower, individualistic and consumeristic one.


The Roman customizer crew Emporio Elaborazioni Meccaniche dedicated a customized bike to the movie. They named a MotoGuzzi V11 cafe racer: "Sorpasso".


DINO RISI, the Italian writer-director known here only for "Poor But Beautiful" ("Poveri Ma Belli"), shown in New York five years ago, has improved immensely to judge by "The Easy Life" ("Il Sorpasso"), which arrived at the Festival Theater yesterday.


For his examination of an aimless wastrel and his destructive effect on an idealistic youngster and others, he merely touches on his flight from responsibility in a seemingly simple and obvious, yet sensitive commentary on what certainly are universal faults.


Call this a comedy-drama in which the comedy is only a surface symptom. Basically, Mr. Risi and his scenarists are telling the story of Bruno, a youthful but middle-aged happy-go-lucky type, who adores his fast white roadster as much as he does the girls and the self-indulgent life it symbolizes.


This is also the story of Roberto, an ill-fated serious, Caspar Milquetoast-type of Roman law student who is drawn, quite casually, into Bruno's swift orbit for two days during which he loses not only his perspectives and ideals but also his life.


It starts, quite innocently, when the older man, Bruno, is invited to use Roberto's phone and he cavalierly invites the young man out for a drink. It is summer and the only care Bruno seems to have is the next turn in the road and the next girl.


The breakneck journey takes the pair from one spa to the next, with each stop proving an intellectual jolt to Roberto, who slowly discovers that his companion is a cadger, a braggart and an iconoclast who is ready to expose even the skeletons in the closets of the relatives Roberto reveres.


And our hurtling hero is exposed also by his own estranged family and his shady deals so that even he intermittently admits his faults and his gnawing loneliness.


In creating this upper middle-class "La Dolce Vita," Mr. Risi has given us a quick jaunt through the Italian Riviera, as well as his perceptive views of life among the vacationing bourgeois. The views and the girls are extremely photogenic and the headlong dash toward fun and games would appear to be obvious and somewhat pointless if they did not add up to a dramatic whole.


But Mr. Risi's fast-paced direction and, more important, the truths he underlines, give his uncluttered film meaning and poignancy as well as mere speed. He is fortunate in his principals, too. Vittorio Gassman makes a superbly brash, coarse, hail-fellow-well-met Bruno who, in one of his rare moments of honest sadness, warns Roberto away from his "easy life" because "I've never had a real friend."


As the diffident, introspective Roberto, Jean-Louis Trintignant, who has been seen here in a variety of French films, is excellent as his opposite number, an impressionable youngster whose shame and fears finally turn to admiration of his strange friend's "easy life."


Catherine Spaak is both cute and wise as Mr. Gassman's teen-age daughter. Luciana Angiolillo, as his estranged wife who long ago discovered his frailties, is both handsome and forceful. And Linda Sini and Corrado Olmi, as Mr. Trintignant's rustic relatives, add touching portraits to an impressive gallery.


The English subtitles miss quite a bit of the earthy humor and patois of the Italian dialogue, but that is a minor defect. This unpretentious focus on "The Easy Life" results in compassionate and memorable drama.


Kristin Laura Kreuk (/ˈkruːk/;[1] Dutch: [krøːk]; born December 30, 1982) is a Canadian actress. She is known for the roles of Lana Lang in the superhero television series Smallville and Laurel Yeung in the Canadian teen drama Edgemont.


She has also starred in movies such as Snow White: The Fairest of Them All (2001), Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li (2009), and Irvine Welsh's Ecstasy (2011). From 2012 to 2016, Kreuk played the role of Catherine Chandler in The CW series Beauty & the Beast.


Kreuk was born in Vancouver, British Columbia, to Peter Kreuk and Deanna Che, two landscape architects. Her father is of Dutch descent, her mother is of Chinese descent, born in Indonesia, and her maternal grandmother was Chinese Jamaican. She has a younger sister, Justine Kreuk.


Kreuk trained in karate and gymnastics at the national level until high school, but quit in grade 11 due to scoliosis. Kreuk was planning to study forensic science or psychology at Simon Fraser University, and was surprised when a casting director for the CBC television series Edgemont contacted her at her high school.


After filming the first season of Edgemont (a teenage soap opera set at a Vancouver-area high school) and getting herself an agent, Kreuk landed the lead role of Snow White in a TV movie, Snow White: The Fairest of Them All, which aired on ABC, and later released on DVD, in 2002.


In mid-2004, Kreuk took the role of Tenar for the Sci Fi Channel two-part miniseries Legend of Earthsea. The miniseries was filmed in Vancouver, directed by Rob Lieberman and broadcast on December 13, 2004.


After Snow White, Kreuk's agent sent an audition tape to screenwriters Alfred Gough and Miles Millar, who at the time were putting together the cast of a show they had created for the WB Network entitled Smallville. The series, which was slated to be shot in Vancouver, revolves around the life of teenager Clark Kent before he becomes Superman. Gough and Millar called Kreuk to WB's studios in Burbank, California to audition for the role of Clark Kent's first love, Lana Lang.


She was the first cast for the show. For a while, Kreuk was starring on both Smallville and Edgemont, although her role on Edgemont slightly diminished over time. Edgemont ended its run in 2005. After seven seasons, Kreuk left Smallville in the beginning of 2008, when her character leaves town. She returned as a guest star in the show's 8th season for five episodes to conclude her storyline.


In the first three seasons of the show she was paid $40,000 per episode while from season four on she earned $270,000 per episode.In 2009, Kristin Kreuk signed on for a multi-episode arc in season three of Chuck. She played Hannah, a computer troubleshooter who joins the Buy More Nerd Herd after being laid off from her previous job.


In 2010, she portrayed Ben Hur's sister Tirzah in the TV movie Ben Hur, which aired in Canada and later on ABC in the United States. Kreuk was involved with two pilots that did not get picked up: an NBC 2010 sitcom entitled Hitched (which was co-created by Josh Schwartz, who was also the creator of Chuck) and a 2011 CBS drama series called 17th Precinct, which was developed by Ronald D. Moore.


In February 2012, Kreuk was announced as the lead female character in The CW's reboot of Beauty & the Beast, which was picked up on May 11, 2012, and started airing in Fall 2012. The CW announced in October 2015 that the show's upcoming fourth season, scheduled to air over the summer of 2016, would be its final season. The series finale aired on August 25, 2016.


In Fall of 2017, Kreuk will be starring in Burden of Proof, a CBC Television production in which she plays a "big-city lawyer who takes on a case for a group of sick girls in her hometown". Kreuk appeared in the comedy film EuroTrip (2004), playing the girlfriend who cheats on the protagonist with a musician (played by Matt Damon)


In early 2005, Kreuk signed on to the Canadian independent film Partition (2007), playing Naseem, a vulnerable 17-year-old whose world is shattered by the trauma of the Partition of India in 1947; the character also falls in love with an ex-British Indian Army officer. In the summer of 2006, Kreuk starred in the short film, Dream Princess by comic book writer/artist Kaare Andrews.


The film is a modern sci-punk retelling of the tale of Sleeping Beauty, with a twist. Unfortunately it never aired. Kreuk starred in the film Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li (2009), in which she played the title character, Chun-Li. She tested for the sequel Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol (2011), with the role going to Paula Patton.


In early 2010, Kreuk signed onto the Japanese horror film Vampire (2011). In 2010, Kreuk also starred in the music video "I Heard" by musician Hill Zaini. Kreuk stars as Heather in the film Irvine Welsh's Ecstasy (2011), based on Irvine Welsh's novel. She also stars as Tilda in the science fiction comedy film Space Milkshake (2012).


Kreuk, with Rosena Bhura, whom Kreuk met on the set of Partition, started a production company called Parvati Creative Inc, which focuses on “human-centric films as seen through a female lens”. Parvati's first production was a short film directed by Rick Rosenthal called Blink, of which Kreuk is listed as an executive producer. The second project was a comedy web series entitled "Queenie" which featured Kreuk's friend Olivia Cheng.


Neutrogena made her the spokesmodel for their new worldwide advertising campaign. In this role, Kreuk followed in the footsteps of fellow teen stars such as Jennifer Love Hewitt and Mandy Moore.


In 2005, she renewed her contract with Neutrogena for another two years, making her the company's longest-serving model spokesperson. Kreuk currently resides in Toronto. She stated on Live! with Kelly and Michael in October 2012 that she is a pescetarian.


Nikolina "Nina" Constantinova Dobreva was born in Sofia, Bulgaria. She moved to Canada at the age of two and has lived in Toronto, Ontario ever since. From a very young age, she showed great enthusiasm and talent for the arts: Dance, Gymnastics, Theatre, Music, Visual arts, and Acting! Modeling jobs led to commercials, which then turned into film auditions.


Shortly after, she booked roles in the feature films Fugitive Pieces (2007), Away from Her (2006) and the popular television series, Degrassi: The Next Generation (2001), on CTV.


Nina loves to travel and has often visited Europe both for pleasure, as well as competing internationally, representing Canada in Aesthetic gymnastics. She enjoys playing volleyball, soccer, swimming, rock climbing, wake boarding, snowboarding, and horse back riding, to name a few.


But, above all, acting is her passion, and she sees it as an adventure that has just begun; she believes that the journey and the characters we create along the way will help us understand ourselves.


Nikolina Konstantinova Dobreva (born January 9, 1989) is a Bulgarian-Canadian actress who plays Elena Gilbert, Katherine Pierce and Amara on The Vampire Diaries and Tatia on The Originals. She is perhaps best known for her role as Mia Jones in Degrassi: The Next Generation. Dobrev has also been featured in movies.


Nina Dobrev was born on January 9, 1989 in Sofia, Bulgaria as Nikolina Konstantinova Dobreva. Her father Konstantin is a computer specialist and her mother Michaela is an artist. She has an older brother, Alexander. Her cousin, Jeny Nikolova, is a model in Canada. Nina moved to Canada at the age of two and has lived in Toronto, Ontario until 2009.


From a very young age she showed great enthusiasm and talent for the arts of dance, gymnastics, theater, music, visual arts, and acting. Modeling jobs led to commercials, which then turned into film auditions.


Shortly after, she had roles in the feature films Fugitive Pieces and Away From Her as well as the popular television series Degrassi: The Next Generation on CTV. Nina loves to travel and has often visited Europe both for pleasure, as well as competing internationally representing Canada in Aesthetic gymnastics.


She enjoys playing volleyball, soccer, swimming, rock climbing, wake boarding, snowboarding, and horse back riding. But above all acting is her passion, and she sees it as an adventure that has just begun; she believes that the journey and the characters we create along the way will help us understand ourselves.


Nina dated her co-star Ian Somerhalder, who portrays Damon Salvatore, for three years. The two were in a relationship, however, they officially broke up in May of 2013. Despite their breakup, the two remain friends.


A few months later, Nina became romantically linked to Dancing With The Stars dancer Derek Hough. The two have been spotted holding hands and sharing various romantic tweets towards each other. Around October of 2013 it was reported that Nina and Derek had broken up.


In a May 2014 InStyle Magazine interview, Nina says that she's a bit of a Tom Boy and loves to skinny dip. Nina also admits to carrying a bikini with her, no matter where she goes so that if the urge strikes to go for a swim.


Nina's Personal Quotes: Looking back on high school, I just remember specific scenarios and thinking, "Wow, that was such a big deal at the time, but right now it feels like it never even happened". So I guess if I can give any advice, I would just say that everything will pass, and it'll feel like it was a big deal over nothing.


Life goes on and then you change and other things happen, and everything feels like it's so much worse afterwards. It'll always get better. I did Degrassi: The Next Generation (2001) for four years.


It was my constant; no matter what movie I would do on hiatus or whatever I would do elsewhere, every year I would always go back to "Degrassi", to my family, and they really sort of taught me all the groundwork and got me started. Before that I was really green, I didn't know what I was doing, so it kind of helped ease my path into the whole industry.


[on working on The Vampire Diaries (2009)] There were daily challenges, there were yearly challenges, there were character challenges. The whole show was challenging in different ways throughout the six years.


The multiple characters, the hours, creating characters, deaths. I was constantly crying, it felt like. But for that reason it kept me occupied, I was never bored, it never felt stale. I always came to work excited, and looking forward to the next thing I got to do.


It was almost like actor boot camp, or a college experience. I started college in real life, but I never finished. I went to high school in real life, and then went to "Degrassi" high school, and then four years as Elena--12 years is a long time to go to school. I need to graduate! I'm ready now. I'm ready to go into the real world. I've literally grown up on this show. I was a baby when I started, and now I'm a woman.


I feel like I've learned so much and have grown so much because of every single person, and every single character, and person I've worked with. They made me who I am, and I'm excited to apply that to the next chapter.


People aren't defined by their relationships. The whole point is being true to yourself and not losing yourself in relationships, whether romances or friendships.


I've reached a point where I'm comfortable in my own skin, and I do what I need to do, to feel good, but I'm built the way I am. The dancer's feet, the bruises on my legs, they're not going to go away. I think real girls have bruises. Tough chicks get bruised. They get dirty. And they have fun.


I'm an artist; content is incredibly important to me. I only want to keep moving up and up in terms of quality and be careful with perception. I don't just want to do things that are the pretty girl with lots of makeup, I want to get into the gritty stuff and get down and dirty and dark and really feed my soul and not my vanity.


Dearest TVD Family: [ . . . ] I always knew I wanted Elena's story to be a six-season adventure, and within those six years I got the journey of a lifetime. I was a human, a vampire, a doppelganger, a crazy immortal, a doppelganger pretending to be human, a human pretending to be a doppelganger.


I got kidnapped, killed, resurrected, tortured, cursed, body-snatched, was dead and undead, and there's still so much more to come before the season finale in May. Elena fell in love not once, but twice, with two epic soulmates, and I myself made some of the best friends I'll ever know and built an extended family I will love forever [ . . . ]


There's more to come before we wrap this up [ . . . ] but until then I invite you to hop on the roller coaster ride that is Elena Gilbert's life and join me as I celebrate her and prepare to say goodbye to her--and to my work family--as I move on to the next chapter of my life.


I want to share this goodbye with all of you [ . . . ] You, the wonderful fandom who gave more love, support and passion than anyone could have ever imagined seven years ago, when a young Degrassi girl from Canada showed up in L.A. to audition for "that 'Twilight' TV show". ;-) I love you all. Fasten your seat-belts . . .


It is a preposterous idea. Untold centuries ago, when all the world was a desert of wind-whipped, blood-orange sand, and leopards lounged lazily in barren trees and arrogantly ruled all they could see, a few members of the puny race of human beings made their own accommodation with the fearsome beasts.


They sacrificed their women to them. And the leopards did not kill the women, but mated with them. From those mists of prehistory, the race they created lives even today: The Cat People.


These people have had a hard time of it. They have the physical appearance of ordinary humans, except for something feline around the eyes and a certain spring in their step. They have all the mortal appetites, too, but there are complications when they make love, because in the heat of orgasm they are transformed into savage black leopards and kill their human lovers.


They should mate only with their own kind. But as our story opens, there are only two Cat People -- and, like their parents before them, they are brother and sister. This is the stuff of audacious myth, combining the perverse, the glorious, and the ridiculous. The movies were invented to tell such stories.


Paul Schrader's "Cat People" moves boldly between a slice-of-life in present-day New Orleans and the windswept deserts where the Cat People were engendered, and his movie creates a mood of doom, predestination, forbidden passion, and, to be sure, a certain silliness. It's fun in the way horror movies should be fun; it's totally unbelievable in between the times it's scaring the popcorn out of you.


Nastassja Kinski stars as the young sister, Irena. She is an orphan, reunited in New Orleans with her long-lost brother, Paul (Malcolm McDowell). She also is a virgin, afraid of sex and liquor because they might unleash the animal inside of her. (Little does she suspect that is literally what would happen.) She is tall, with a sensual mouth, wide-set green eyes, and a catlike walk.


She catches the attention of the curator at the New Orleans zoo (John Heard). He senses danger in her. He also senses that this is the creature he has been waiting for all his life -- waiting for her as the leopards in their cells wait, expecting nothing, ready for anything.


We have here, then, a most complex love triangle. Kinski fears her brother because she fears incest. She fears the curator but loves him. To love him is, eventually, to kill him.


The curator is in love with the idea of her threat, but does not realize she really will turn into a leopard and rend his flesh. There are some supporting characters: Annette O'Toole is the sensible friend who senses danger, and Ed Begley, Jr. is the lackadaisical custodian whose arm is ripped from its socket.


You shouldn't mess with leopards. Schrader tells his story in two parallel narratives. One involves the deepening relationships among the sister, the brother, and the curator. The other, stunningly photographed, takes place in an unearthly terrain straight from Frank Herbert's Dune books.


The designer, Ferdinando Scarfiotti, and the veteran special-effects artist, Albert Whitlock, have created a world that looks completely artificial, with its drifting red sands and its ritualistic tableau of humans and leopards -- and yet looks realistic in its fantasy. In other words, you know this world is made up, but you can't see the seams; it's like the snow planet in "The Empire Strikes Back."


"Cat People" moves back and forth between its mythic and realistic levels, held together primarily by the strength of Kinski's performance and John Heard's obsession. Kinski is something. She never overacts in this movie, never steps wrong, never seems ridiculous; she just steps onscreen and convincingly underplays a leopard.


Heard also is good. He never seems in the grip of an ordinary sexual passion, but possesses one of those obsessions men are willing (and often are called upon) to die for.


"Cat People" is a good movie in an old tradition, a fantasy-horror film that takes itself just seriously enough to work, has just enough fun to be entertaining, contains elements of intrinsic fascination in its magnificent black leopards, and ends in one way just when we were afraid it was going to end in another.



I had never really heard many half-snorts before. Snorts, yes, and silence. But what do you make of an audience that has no idea how to react? "Black Snake Moan" is the oddest, most peculiar movie I've seen about sex and race and redemption in the Deep South. It may be the most peculiar recent movie ever except for "Road House," but then what can you say about "Road House"? Such movies defy all categories.


The movie -- I will try to be concise -- stars Samuel L. Jackson as a broken-down blues musician and vegetable market gardener whose wife has just walked out. On the road leading to his property he finds the battered body of a young white girl, whose injuries hardly seem curable by the cough syrup he barters fresh vegetables for at the drugstore. The girl is Rae (Christina Ricci); it is no coincidence that Jackson's character is named Lazarus, and Lazarus determines to return her from near death or whooping cough, one or the other. No saint himself, he wants to redeem her from a life of sluttery.


His technique, with a refreshing directness, is to chain her to a radiator. Good thing he lives way out in the wilderness. Lazarus and Rae have no sex per se, but they do a powerful lot of slapping, cursing and chain-rattling, and the reaction of the blue-collar town on Market Day is a study. I think the point is that Lazarus and Rae somehow redeem each other through these grotesqueries, a method I always urge be used with extreme caution.


The performances are very good: Hell-bent for leather, and better than the material deserves, there is much hysteria and snot. The writer-director, Craig Brewer, made that other splendid story of prostitution and redemption, "Hustle & Flow," with its Oscar-winning song ("It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp") In fact, I pretty much enjoyed the whole movie, with some incredulity and a few half-snorts.


Both "Black Snake Moan" and "Hustle & Flow" are about neglected characters living on the fringe who find a healing in each other. Both movies use a great deal of music to illustrate the souls of their characters.


We sense that the girl has never been treated other than in a beastly manner, and that the man, having lost his wife, is determined not to allow sex to betray his instincts to do good. Yes, I think it is probably against the law to chain a drifter to a radiator, but in a sense these people exist outside the law, society and common or any kind of sense. Their society consists of the usual locals who seem clueless and remarkably unobservant, leading to remarkable non sequiturs.


There is another woman, the middle-aged pharmacist named Angela, played by the sweet S. Epatha Merkerson, to provide Lazarus an alternative to a life of sluts and tramps. But, as for Rae -- well, I gather that when compulsive nymphomania passes a certain point, you're simply lost.


After Rae says goodbye to her boyfriend Ronnie (played by pop star Justin Timberlake), who has enlisted in the service for cloudy reasons, she immediately falls to the ground and starts writhing as if under attack by fire ants. This is her way of conveying uncontrollable, orgiastic need. A girl that needy, you'd approach like Miss RoboCop.


I love the way that both Samuel Jackson and Christina Ricci take chances like this, and the way that Brewer creates characters of unbelievable forbearance, like Ronnie, who is in a more or less constant state of panic attacks and compulsion. And I like the understated way the rural Tennessee locations are used. You have never seen a movie like this before. Then again, you may not hope to. Some good blues music helps carry the day.


I heard some days after the screening that Jackson considers this his best performance. Well, maybe it is. He disappears into the role, and a good performance requires energy, daring, courage and intensity, which he supplies in abundance. Few actors could accomplish work at this level with this screenplay. As for Christina Ricci, she is the right actor for this role; she embodies this poor, mixed-up creature and lets you experience both her pain and her hope. Her work defines the boundaries of the thankless.


Black Snake Moan's Faux Provocation. It has been a clarifying year for young auteurs. Smokin' Aces showed Joe Carnahan as a flailing vaudevillian, Breach reinforced Billy Ray as a stolid analyst of true-life enigmas, now Black Snake Moan establishes Craig Brewer as a faux-provocateur and resolute wigger cineaste. His follow-up to Hustle & Flow continues the white-guy infatuation with the South as a heated canvas of music and black bravado, consistent not just thematically but stylistically: The low-angled camera which gave an upskirt view of Taryn Manning in Hustle has been expanded into a full tour of Christina Ricci's undies.


Brewer kicks off with Ricci and beau Justin Timberlake in a feverish bout of goodbye-sex as he's about to head over to the Army, he vomits in a toilet before leaving and she drops to her knees as his van pulls away; elsewhere in the same Tennessee burg, Samuel L. Jackson experiences a harsh parting of his own, losing his religion after being dumped by a two-timing wife. The fucking, the puking, the squabbling, everything is slathered with vivid, Elia Kazan-type physicality, one of Brewer's strengths --


Jackson pins his cuckolding brother on a pool table with a cracked beer bottle and wipes the blood from his hand on his white beard, while Ricci marches her itchy cooch into town, gets smashed at a beer keg party, and collapses out of the frame as the whole screen is drenched blue. The meeting of the two wounded creatures is arranged when Ricci is left battered and half-naked in a ditch near Jackson's place; he breaks her fever and, since she's a nympho who can't keep from diddling herself, chains her --


I literally mean chains her-- to his radiator, "I aim to cure you of yo wickedness."
"Ain't no cure for the blues like some good pussy," some barfly intones, and for a patch Black Snake Moan snaps and crackles with comic verve. The serpentine chain wrapped around Ricci's waist is a brazen joke that feeds on intimations of bondage, slavery, and kinky sex, richly flaunted in the confrontational poster; Jackson yanks the scrawny bobcat in heat into the living room, Ricci yanks back after stretching just enough to reveal the skin underneath her Dixie-adorned tanktop.


Had the atmosphere -- fraught with the tension of power plays and the still-taboo possibility of interracial sex -- been pushed further, the picture might have burned like Larry Cohen's Bone or Jane Campion's Holy Smoke, vehement comedies of cultural anxiety brought to the surface. But Brewer's provocation is hollow, so he hides unearthed raw nerves behind humdrum humanism, with any real danger safely circumscribed for viewers: The town slut just needs a bit of exorcism from a churchy father figure, the embittered blues singer just needs to tend to some wounds before being able to pick up his guitar again:


"Git yo shit together," the chaste healing is clinched as Jackson rasps out the title song with Ricci hugging his leg, Miss Daisy lives! (About Brewer's use of the blues -- footage of the legendary Son House opens the picture, but anybody who lets "Stagolee" be ad-libbed with mother fuckers" has about as soulful an understanding of the music's raunchy force as John Landis in The Blues Brothers.) The gal who at the outset flipped off the tractor looming behind her is "cured" into docility, and passed from one man to another, climactically. It's not so hard out here for a pimp, not in Hollywood.


The Black Snake Moan poster might be a tough sell in Hicksville, but the one for 300 should play like gangbusters -- an ecstatically sunburst vision of bodies being pushed off a cliff, "Prepare for glory" as ad copy. It's fascinating to watch the two back to back. An aestheticized massacre will always be less threatening than miscegenation in a society where violence is still more acceptable than sexuality, yet both pictures are equally neck-deep in racial and sexual tensions; the difference is that Snake flashes them like the floozy at the ballroom while 300 keeps them leashed like the athlete prior to the big game, or like the rifleman who inexorably goes postal.



South of Hell is a 2015 American supernatural horror drama television series starring Mena Suvari. The series was ordered by WE tv with a straight eight episode pick up, with seven episodes airing back-to-back on November 27, 2015.


In Charleston, South Carolina, Maria and David Abascal are demon hunters for hire. In Maria's body resides a demon called Abigail, who feeds off the evil that Maria exorcises of others. As Maria does her job of vanquishing evil, she must find a way to exorcise Abigail out of her body. But getting rid of Abigail is not an easy task, as she finds it immensely appealing to reside deep within a conflicted soul such as Maria's.


Ti West, Rachel Talalay, Jennifer Lynch and Jeremiah Chechik have been tapped to direct individual episodes. The show's opening credits theme song is "Wild Side" by the band Cross My Heart Hope To Die.


Mena Suvari in an Eli Roth-produced demonic drama that's being dumped on Black Friday? It's gotta be good! It takes neither a TV critic nor a fortune teller to read the tea leaves on WEtv's South of Hell.


If you're a network with minimal experience in the scripted space and you give a splashy straight-to-series order for a supernatural horror drama from a prolific genre producer (Jason Blum) and an established genre director (Eli Roth) with a recognizable star (Mena Suvari), deciding to release all of the series at once — trimmed to only seven episodes — on the day after Thanksgiving counts as a vote of minimal confidence.


Based on two episodes, it's easy to see why WEtv had no particular clue what to do with South of Hell. Whatever WEtv's brand is, this isn't it, nor is it likely to open the network up to a future niche.


It isn't scary. It looks comically cheap at times. The performances range from inconsistent to fairly awful. And unless the Emmys open up a category for Outstanding Use of Multi-Colored Contact Lenses, it's unlikely to get any real respect.


But as a representative of a subgenre already prone to overflowing hokum draped in Spanish moss, smothered in grits and delivered with Southern accents learned from a "Hooked on Keanu Reeves" tape series, South of Hell at least gets credit for some so-bad-it's-funny silliness to go with a premise which really could have been shaped into something better.


The hook is tasty: Maria (Suvari) makes her money reading tarot cards and selling fake mystical trinkets at a Charleston flea market, but she's really a demon-hunter with a unique qualification: Maria is harboring a green-eyed demon named Abigail who enjoys nothing so much as munching on the souls of other demons.


Maria can barely control Abigail, which is where brother David (Zachary Booth) comes in. David is able to keep Maria's demon under control, but he can't control his own drug addiction. See how this works? It's a metaphor drowned in metaphorical gravy and then deep-fried in metaphorically scalding oil.


Created by Matt Lambert, South of Hell also features Bill Irwin as Maria and David's crazed cult-leader father, Lamman Rucker as a priest with a personal interest in helping Maria and Dexter veteran Lauren Velez as a mystery woman presumably hiding demons, metaphorical or otherwise, of her own.


In addition to Velez, the Dexter connection on South of Hell includes showrunner James Manos, Jr. and a voiceover that you badly want to slap across its disembodied face.


See, the reason the Dexter voiceover worked was that it came from the perspective of a perpetually ironic character who was always questioning his humanity. Dexter could utter cliches and they'd sound wry and reflective coming from Michael C. Hall.


Booth, however, cannot find any way to sell voiceover such as "The world's a hard place to face alone and old habits die hard, like a tune you just can't get out of your head" in any way that doesn't just sound like bad writing.


I get the desire, in a show this extreme, to have the POV be an unremarkable character, but there's a difference between unremarkable and a character who is too bland to respond to anything in an interesting way.


South of Hell's writers and directors — Eli Roth and Rachel Talalay in the episodes I've seen, with Jennifer Lynch, Jeremiah Chechik and Ti West to come — share a general lack of interest in the non-supernatural elements and characters in the series, and Booth and his performance are only the most


Rucker's in-the-know reverend is a wooden bore, Lydia Hearst is amusingly uncomfortable as an alluring belle and Maria's trailer-park neighbor (Drew Moerlein) snoozes through playing a character whose name probably should just be Beefcake instead of Dusty.


While the prospect of playing both Maria and demonic invader Abigail seems like it ought to be enticing for Suvari, her more general interpretation appears to be closer to miserable discomfort, which may be related to either those contact lenses or the strangeness of playing a possessed version of someone bringing a human version of themself to orgasm while sharing a couch. Yes, South of Hell is that kind of show.


It's also the kind of program that has a possessed child, again encumbered by wacky contact lenses, informing an adversary, "Bitch, I eat souls for breakfast!" which surely would be one of the most quoted TV lines of 2015, except nobody is going to watch South of Hell. And while he may or may not be incubating a malingering spirit of his own, Irwin's character gives the Tony-winning actor the chance to be hammy at a level that exceeds his oft-hammy career norms.


South of Hell only comes to life in the exorcism or demon-related scenes, which steal from William Friedkin's genre-defining classic with abandon and seem to rely heavily on people wrestling on walls or ceilings while simultaneously wrestling with their contact lenses. More advanced effects like a soaring horde-of-insects cam and something where demons seem to speak through prisoners as static are more rudimentary, but there's a chance they could be spruced up for air.


Even at moments of peak lunacy, South of Hell falls well short of what Ash vs Evil Dead is doing on a weekly basis on Starz. Presumably WEtv is dumping South of Hell post-Thanksgiving rather than the more justifiable post-Halloween to get distance from that Sam Raimi-produced success, as if this will be the perfect time for fans of Marriage Boot Camp, Braxton Family Values and Tamar & Vince to switch from unscripted to badly scripted horror.



Suspiria: Movie Review Release Date: February 1, 1977 Sub-Genre: Supernatural Country of Origin: Italy Budget: $13,000,000


Box Office:$1,800,000 (US/ Canada), ITL 1,430,000,000 (Italy) Running Time: 98 minutes
Director: Dario Argento Producer: Claudio Argento, Salvatore Argento


Screenplay: Dario Argento, Daria Nicolodi Based on Suspiria de Profundis by Thomas De Quincey Special Effects: Germano Natali Cinematography: Luciano Tovoli Score: Goblin, Dario Argento


Editing: Franco Fraticelli Production Design: Giuseppe Bassan Studio: Seda Spettacoli Distributors: EMI (UK), Anchor Bay Entertainment (DVD), Blue Underground (UK), Magnum Entertainment (VHS), Nouveaux Pictures (Blu-Ray)


Stars: Jessica Harper, Stefania Casini, Flavio Bucci, Miguel Bosé, Barbara Magnolfi, Susanna Javicoli, Eva Axén, Rudolf Schündler, Udo Kier, Alida Valli, Joan Bennett, Margherita Horowitz, Jacopo Mariani, Fulvio Mingozzi Narrator: Dario Argento (uncredited) Suggested Audio Candy:


“Broken Mirrors, Broken Minds” How does a ten-year-old boy even attempt to process a film such as Suspiria? That was precisely my age when I received my formal introduction to Dario Argento’s surreal nightmare. Did I understand what was playing out before my eyes?


I certainly had a vague idea but, as the end credits rolled and I shuffled off to my bed for further reflection, I don’t think I yet realized the magnitude of my undertaking. It wasn’t the first horror film I had watched but it was perhaps the first to throw up far more questions than it was willing to provide the answers for.


I may have been too wet behind the ears to reach inside and grasp it by its beating heart, but I certainly couldn’t shake its shadow from the darkest recess of my room as I laid my head down. If Argento’s movie taught me one thing then that was the immense power of avant garde cinema.


Thirty years down the line and still I struggle to think of a film quite as effortlessly macabre and cerebral. I’m used to movies getting under my skin and, at thirty-one, have had more than enough experience of the grotesque.


However, few pieces of art are quite as individual as Suspiria, and the only other example I can think of is Inferno, which also happens to be the second in his Mother of Tears trilogy. As fantastic as that film is, and as monumental as its underwater ballroom scene is, it’s not the ballet school.


I never much cared for ballet and would imagine that has something to do with the fact that Argento paid my nightmare tuition fees and I turned up there every night like clockwork until the age of fifteen. To be fair to Dario, Goblin are just as culpable.


Again, how does a ten-year-old boy even attempt to process their nightmarish renditions?
Just the name Dario Argento is enough to strike fear into most mortal hearts. Over the past forty years, this man has been a true innovator in his chosen field; inside of whom is a great artist and tortured soul both frantic to get out.


This is the man who harbors a peculiar obsession with his own daughter, the stunning Asia, to the point that he casts her unclothed in many of his works. Clearly this man has some unresolved childhood traumas wired in there with that embarrassing wealth of twisted raw talent and therein lies the key to his eminence.


You see, few can channel their anguish in quite such an exclusive manner and, while his later work may lack a certain artistic flair evident in his most prolific period, he is still dedicated to expressing himself deep into his seventies.


In many ways, he’s like horror’s own Woody Allen. If that is so, then Suspiria would be his Annie Hall. Dario was not content with helping to pioneer the Italian horror insurgency, not to mention weighing in with some classic giallo heavyweights and spearheading the charge for their very own cinematic progeny.


He wasn’t satisfied with being known for this alone and decided he wanted to probe deeper into the vaults of people’s deepest dread and insecurity. Not only this but it was clear to him that his knack for staging terrifying floor shows and striking broad bloody strokes across his canvas, was wasted unless he explored more unearthly inspirations.


He had to go deep and Profondo Rosso revealed a man already teetering over his own worst imaginings but for Suspiria he finally took that leap and squared up to his demons. For any freshmen, Suspiria is a blood-drenched fairy tale of a coven of witches masquerading as a prestigious German dance academy.


Argento’s stimulation come from fables told by the grandmother of fellow screenwriter Daria Nicolodi, who allegedly fled from a German music academy herself because necromancy was being surreptitiously practiced there.


American student Suzy Bannion (Jessica Harper) arrives in the dead of night and torrential rain looking to enroll in one of the most magnificent opening scenes from the entire annals of horror. Shadows whisper, the incessant rain appears to be conferring too


and all the while Goblin are tapping at the doors of our mind, laughing grimly as they do. Their score was played at full volume on-set to needle the cast and extract truly fearful performances from them. It’s a truly hellish piece of music.


One of the factors which Suspiria is celebrated for is its exquisite production design and lurid coloration. Argento uses striking primary tones, red in particular, to filter the fear through and cinematographer Luciano Tovoli works with his vision beautifully to create an insular hell hole unlike any other.


Tovoli was advised to watch Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs beforehand and to then remodel the color scheme. In addition, it was the first Italian film to make use of Steadicam, so it is visible just how invested he was to creating something truly commemorative.


His passion bleeds through the deep reds and his own cold terror dances around the somber blues also providing a banquet for the retinas. Naturally, it also features beautiful women, another ever-present and, to be fair, not totally exclusive with this particular Italian stallion.


A population of highly sexed alpha-males demanded no less than a quota of at least one siren-like beauty to accompany their linguine and Dario gleefully obliges. Harper had impressed him so much with her turn as Phoenix in Brian De Palma’s Phantom of The Paradise that he snapped her up on the quick and those large peepers captivate between every blink.


Every time she sleeps, Argento’s roving lens goes walkabout and we are given advanced warning as to what kind of hideous acts play out each night while her aching body heals. The rest of the time we’re Suzy’s spotters and she conveys her horror magnanimously throughout.


Argento also pushes the envelope here in terms of the beautiful bright red stuff. Profondo Rosso had already ruffled a few feathers and the censors were starting to sit up and take notice. His solid giallo Tenebrae was destined to land him in the dock for its notorious arm dismemberment


but just how any censor could dare touch this man’s scientific art is a concept I will never be comfortable with. Suspiria has a suitably atmospheric and grisly opening. Actually, I feel that this is doing it an injustice. The opening drips ominous darkness like a leaky faucet.


His use of audio, silence as much as score-driven, instantaneously whisks us away into a small corner of his splendidly deranged psyche and pins us down, forcing us all to take in the sublime beauty in his beast.


It doesn’t stop there though…oh no! Dario hasn’t finished with us yet. Suspiria features many distressing instances throughout its duration and, for each, he uses a different shade in his wide palette to apply that distorted genius.


The witches are hinted at rather than shown for the main part and this benefits the experience substantially. Without always looking toward visceral shocks and cheap jump tactics to achieve his desired effect, he is enabled to focus on taking that scene further into his own mind, where the limitations are considerably reduced.


One particular standout scene featuring a vortex of barbed wire, set against a striking blue backdrop, draws out the tension for a number of minutes and you feel your insides tangling up like our onscreen fly in her proverbial web.


A popular saying has always been that “you are your own worst enemy” thus, should you feed your brain ninety minutes of his phantasm, then said mind may well play cruel tricks on you for weeks afterwards. Both haunting and beautiful in equal measures, Suspiria has become known, not for its wayward narrative but for the delightfully composed set-pieces, brimming with vivid coloration


and accompanied by strings of torment. Currently Luca Guadagnino is set to attempt the long-rumored remake intended for release in 2017. Should this actually come to fruition, then he may just be the bravest man on the planet, and I wish him well with such an unenviable task.


After all these years and so many subsequent views, there still isn’t any other film that I’m aware of that is quite like it. For The Grue-Guzzlers: The wonderfully horrific opening features plenty of Argento’s delicious deep red alongside some truly affecting imagery.


However, Dario’s gory set-pieces are drip fed and so stunningly composed that it becomes hard to refer to it as actual grue. My fascination for sanguine fluids actually stemmed from watching Suspiria for the first of many times.


Goddamn, I owe this man a mochaccino. If that’s what it takes to get a shot at Asia.



Inferno : Release Date: February 7, 1980 Sub-Genre: Supernatural Country of Origin: Italy Budget: $3,000,000 Running Time: 107 minutes Director: Dario Argento Assistant Director: Lamberto Bava Producer: Claudio Argento, Salvatore Argento, Guglielmo Garroni


Screenplay: Dario Argento Narrator: Dario Argento Special Effects: Germano Natali Visual Effects: Mario Bava (uncredited)Cinematography: Romano Albani Score: Keith Emerson Art Direction: Giuseppe Bassan Editing: Franco Fraticelli Studio: Produzioni Intersound Distributor: 20th Century Fox, Anchor Bay Entertainment, Blue Underground, Arrow Film Distributors Stars: Leigh McCloskey, Irene Miracle, Eleonora Giorgi, Daria Nicolodi, Sacha Pitoëff, Alida Valli, Veronica Lazar, Gabriele Lavia, Feodor Chaliapin Jr., Leopoldo Mastelloni


I figured it is high time I revisit one of the more avant-garde classics of horror modern cinema. It simply had to be Dario Argento as few can boast of blurring the lines between horror and fine art so effortlessly as he. He’s the closest we have to our very own Vincent Van Gogh and, during his most flush period around the turn of the eighties, was creating the kind of brush strokes most filmmakers could only ever dream of. The work I am about to place under the microscope was incredibly divisive back on its release in 1980 but time has been kind to Inferno and it is now given the respect it so richly deserves.


Unquestionably flawed and amounting to little more than a collection of beautifully shot set-pieces to the untrained eye, it is also one of his most ambitious ever films. Argento’s Three Mothers Trilogy inaugurated in 1977 with the undebatable masterpiece Suspiria inspired by Thomas de Quincey’s Suspiria de Profundis and wouldn’t be concluded until forty years later with the largely misunderstood Mother of Tears but its inter-joining fable opts for an entirely different approach to storytelling by opting for visual mastery over any form of notable linear narrative structure whatsoever.


To aid Argento in creating his sumptuous visuals, he enlisted the talents of Mario Bava, whose keen eye for detail assisted him no end with his transcendent revelation. Sadly, Bava passed away shortly before the film’s release but I’m sure he would have been more than satisfied by the results of their collaboration as Inferno both looks and plays out like a dream. As with Suspiria before it, the palette of colors used is fundamental to the unsettling surreal ambiance which is evident throughout, with Keith Emerson’s haunting score expertly adding an extra layer of consternation to proceedings.


This time the central focus is the second of the Three Mothers, Mater Tenebrarum, and our story begins in New York where poet Rose Elliot (Irene Miracle) has come across ancient scriptures denoting the whereabouts of Tenebrarum’s evil blueprints for demonic devastation. Convinced that the building she occupies is in fact the configuration she reads about, her investigations lead her to a subterranean vault where a sunken cavity awaits. Now, while Argento has given us many fantastical moments of optical


enchantment over his long career, I would be hard pushed to select one more beguiling, enchanting, tantalizing and, in turn, oppressive than the ballroom scene of the opening act here. There simply aren’t sufficient adjectives to sum it up and Argento wholly succeeds in leaving his audience as breathless as his inundated maiden. He draws it out for as long as he possibly can and, like Rose, we are desperate to come up for precious air.


Lighting plays an integral part in its ambiance, as does that delirious score. Ingeniously veiled light sources dance off the water creating different hues of Argento’s vivid insignia. Indeed, the director very near burned himself out creatively making Inferno (a bout of Hepatitis certainly didn’t help either), and it’s no small wonder as instances such as this are beyond breathtaking. I would even go as far as to list the underwater ballroom incident in the ten most magnanimous of horror history which, considering the shortlist, is high praise indeed.

It isn’t this extended moment of exquisite aquatic artistry alone though, far from it. A Roman university lecture amphitheater is also used to incredible cinematic effect and, even in such an imposing architectural structure, he is never once overawed and the precision in his craft shows an intricacy few filmmakers will ever possess and that’s all filmmakers, not just those who dabble in the macabre.


Meanwhile, the art direction and production design are simply off the scale and lend an ethereal mood to Inferno unlike any other movie in existence. It’s fruitless attempting to pick holes in the admittedly flimsy narrative structure when your eyes are being made love to constantly for 107 minutes but ultimately this is the only thing separating this from the likes of Suspiria. Granted, that film was hardly brimming with logic but it felt more measured with regards to storytelling and this is deemed largely redundant in the grand scheme of things here.


However, that’s not to say there isn’t a plot to follow and it primarily centers around Rose’s brother Mark (Leigh McCloskey) who catches the next available flight out of Rome to piece together any clues left upon her sudden disappearance. The role was originally intended for James Woods but previous commitments with David Cronenberg’s Videodrome prevented his involvement and McCloskey does his level best to make sense of something the audience are just as clueless about.


Argento’s muse at the time and frequent collaborator Daria Nicolodi also pops up in a minor role as Countess Elise but, alas, while we’re still marvelling at her perfectly proportioned deep red-painted toes, she is sent packing to the sidelines as is sadly too often the case in Argento’s films.


Other characters are largely superfluous to proceedings and seemingly exist only to deliver to our next moment of dread and horror. Once our beleaguered hero learns of the building’s dark secret, we are supplied the Inferno of the title but, regardless of all its fire and brimstone, it never capitalizes on our fear quite as effectively as its distinguished precursor did previously.


That said, it’s certainly not lacking in the panache stakes and is still a fittingly pressure cooker finale. As for the picture on the whole, Suspiria is still my personal darling and the reason for this is its more intricate framework. However, there can be no doubting the technical prowess on exhibit and, once again, Argento’s vision is one which exists only in the deepest sanctums of our subconscious, which is precisely why he evokes such unanimous reactions from his audience.


It’s a tour de force of devastatingly haunting imagery and, technically, on entirely another level to any other horror movie of its time. Sure it makes less sense than a Pauly Shore monologue but, when the end product is so beautifully crafted, I’m more than happy to take each inevitable rough edge with its smooth compatriot. For the Grue-Guzzlers & Pelt-Nuzzlers: It is of eternal bewilderment to me why the DPP completely overlooked this film’s magnificent artistic broad strokes to focus on the supposedly ghastly bloodletting.


Inferno featured on the nasties list until 1985 but when it did eventually see the light of day in 1987 it was over four minutes lighter. Long since restored, truth be known it isn’t nearly as grisly as we were led to believe and it’s hard to fathom why the censors took exception to this as opposed to Suspiria but a dash of animal cruelty likely didn’t help it cause. That’s not to say there isn’t plentiful profondo rosso on the table. Throats are stabbed clean through, shards of broken window glass used as makeshift guillotines, eyes gouged, rats fed and bodies burned until extra crispy.


However, for Keeper, a single instance resonates over all others. One unfortunate female victim receives a knife to her lower spine and the acoustic of said blade making contact will haunt my dreams perpetually. As for sins of the flesh, Argento shows an unusual amount of restraint and the closest we come to bare flesh is a sodden blouse. On the plus side, Irene Miracle’s perky pink pellets are every bit as miraculous as her birth name and almost warrant a token credit all by themselves.


Mother of Tears (2007) Release Date: 31 October 2007 (Italy), 6 June 2008 (United States) Sub-Genre: Supernatural Country of Origin: Italy/United States Budget: $3,500,000 Running Time: 102 minutes Director: Dario Argento Producers: Dario Argento, Claudio Argento, Marina Berlusconi, Giulia MarlettaScreenplay: Dario Argento, Jace Anderson, Adam Gierasch, Walter Fasano, Simona SimonettiBased on Suspiria de Profundis by Thomas De Quincey Special Effects: Sergio Stivaletti


Visual Effects: Lee Wilson Cinematography: Frederic Fasano Score: Claudio Simonetti Editing: Walter Fasano Studios: Medusa Film, Opera Film Produzione, Myriad Pictures, Sky Cinema, Film Commission Torino-Piemonte Distributor: Medusa Distribuzione Stars: Asia Argento, Cristian Solimeno, Adam James, Moran Atias, Valeria Cavalli, Phillipe Leroy, Daria Nicolodi, Coralina Cataldi Tassoni, Udo Kier, Clive Riche, Massimo Sarchielli, Silvia Rubino, Jun Ichikawa, Luca Pescatore, Tommaso Banfi, Paolo Stella, Barbara Mautino


It can be troublesome returning to a beloved franchise after a lengthy lay off. Francis Ford Coppola learned the hard way and, while The Godfather: Part III brought no real shame to the game, it simply couldn’t hope to hold a candle up to its celebrated predecessors. There were sixteen years between Coppola’s second and third entry and that is nothing to the twenty-seven canyon between Inferno and Mother of Tears. When Dario Argento announced a return to his Three Mothers Trilogy it caused a great deal of excitement within horror circles although there was also a fair level of trepidation from doubting Thomases.


Both Suspiria and Inferno were showcases for Argento at the very top of his game and it was already clear at this point that he was unlikely to be able to repeat the feat a third time. His output during the interim had been decidedly mixed and, for many, the last truly great Argento picture had come way back in 1987 with Opera. To add even more pressure, Inferno damn near finished him off creatively and was one of the hardest films he ever had to make. Delving once more into Thomas de Quincey’s Suspiria de Profundis for inspiration, Mother of Tears concludes the trinity by introducing the most beautiful of the three mothers, Mater Lachrymarum. Argento and Daria Nicolodi actually started working on this as far back as 1984 but, after their turbulent relationship ended a year later, so too did their hopes of it bearing fruit.


It was almost two decades before Argento decided to give fans their conclusion and took another four for it to reach completion. The script underwent a number of rewrites and eventually he recruited Jace Anderson and Adam Gierasch to help thrash out a final draft. In some respects, it presented a refreshing challenge for the Italian maestro as it allowed him to use retrospect and approach the story with a fresh pair of eyes. However, his filmmaking style had changed considerably by the turn of the millennium, and folk had begun to grow critical of any fresh venture.


Mother of Tears is truly a bizarre little movie. Confused, convoluted, and often incoherent, it is also one of the most effortlessly enjoyable of his many works. Narrative was never his primary concern and neither Suspiria or Inferno concerned themselves with making a great deal of sense so it should come as no surprise that his third outing is borderline unhinged from its very foundations. However, at no point during its 102 minute running time did I find myself losing faith, despite regularly feeling as though the blind were leading the blind. This is Argento at his most unrestrained and who cares if it makes little to no sense when it moves with the pace of a methed-up ferret. Meanwhile, Claudio Simonetti’s grand score echoes Jerry Goldsmith’s ominous composition from The Omen and that can only ever prove a distinct positive.


We begin with members of the Catholic Church unearthing a casket containing the remains of a 19th-century church official, with a mysterious urn chained around it and artifacts belonging to the last surviving member of the notorious Three Mothers, Mater Lachrymarum. It is promptly shipped off to the Museum of Ancient Art in Rome where American art restoration student Sarah (Asia Argento) unwittingly unleashes the evil pent-up within and things soon turn awry for the wide-eyed girl and her curator boyfriend Michael (Adam James). After one of her colleagues suffers an unimaginable death at the hands of demonic cult members and an unexplained crime spree commences around the streets of Rome, it is left to Sarah to attempt to unravel the mystery before all hell literally breaks loose.


She soon realizes that the part she plays is more significant than initially feared and she receives her very own spirit guide in the ethereal form of her deceased mother Elisa (Nicolodi). She cannot hope to survive the onslaught of Satan’s little helpers without special powers and it doesn’t take Sarah long to realize that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Mommie dearest was a powerful white witch who almost toppled the eldest of the Three Mothers, Suspiriorum before being killed in a road accident along with Sarah’s father. Thanks to her new-found ability to turn invisible, she manages to stay one step ahead of the game whilst locating an alchemist and tooling up for the thankless task ahead.


Clearly Lachrymarum isn’t going to make it easy for her so she sends out a rowdy cluster of cackling punk rock minions and a savage gibbon to put the skids on her opposite number. Think of the demented chimp from Phenomena, then widen its mean streak considerably and you should be in the right ball park. Everyone Sarah comes into contact with seem to meet grisly ends and even Michael is a shadow of his former self as the Third Mother is now pulling his strings. There is no end of incident in a second act as bat-shit crazy as anything Argento has dreamed up over his long and lustrous career. If the cart feels as though it may career from its tracks at any given moment, then rest assured this is par for the course when the master is at the helm, albeit with Anderson and Gierasch attempting to rein him in.


He is assisted, in no small part, by his daughter who gives an energetic turn as our beleaguered lead. It is easy to see why he chooses her supple shoulders to rest the burden and she carries it decidedly well throughout. Her character may be a tad uneven but she more than makes up for any inconsistency with unquestionable enthusiasm and plays damsel in distress with the same conviction as a rabbit caught in the crosshairs of oncoming headlamps. Dab hands Udo Kier, Coralina Cataldi Tassoni and Philippe Leroy appear in cameos and James is perfectly cast as Sarah’s panic-stricken bedfellow.


After a disquieting voyage of discovery most harsh, the desperate Sarah manages to locate Mater Lachrymarum’s lair in the catacombs beneath a decrepit Gothic mansion and commences her search and destroy mission. The final flurry is typically nightmarish and packed tight with all manner of debauchery and sacrificial plundering. As our heroine explores the mansion in a single protracted steadicam shot, we begin to see flashes of Argento past, while Frederic Fasano’s cinematography focuses more on cold, naturalistic tones brimming with light and shade as opposed to the vivid Technicolor hues of both Suspiria and Inferno. It’s entirely off its rocker and precious little will make sense by the time Mother of Tears hurtles towards its conclusion but this is no different from any other work from his expansive oeuvre.


This is where we are required to forgive any discrepancies as a lot has changed in the twenty-seven years between his second and third fables. Its foibles, of which there are admittedly many, are somewhat charming and, three decades back, nobody would have batted an eyelid. However, expectation can be damning to a film such as Mother of Tears as is the reputation which precedes it. I fully expected a mess of gargantuan proportions and got precisely that but that didn’t stop me enjoying the bloody hell out of it. All things considered, it provides a fitting end to the trilogy, and is a lot more comfortable rubbing shoulders with its forerunners than we have been led to believe.


Hindsight is a glorious thing and it is here that Argento’s Three Mothers swan song reveals its tantalizing spread of tail feathers. Just speaking about it now has reminded me just how utterly transfixed I was throughout and it already begs for a repeat view. Logic is superfluous to requirements as you’ll find


scant rationale to anything presented here. However, taken in the correct context, and setting aside any predisposal to pick holes for a moment, it provides suitably non compo mentis closure to a certifiable triage of terror. Of all of his post-Opera output, this is the closest we have come to classic Argento and that is something to damn well celebrate in my book.


For the Grue-Guzzlers & Pelt-Nuzzlers: Attempting to begin here is akin to threading a needle after a litre of Fireball. Sergio Stivaletti’s practical effects are easily amongst the most hideous Argento has ever devised and, a little questionable CGI aside, there is a veritable smorgasbord of gushing grue and some remarkably vicious dispatches, even by his standards. Restraint is little more than ten Scrabble points here and everything is shown up-close-and-personal in lurid detail with impish glee. Suspiria and Inferno were no slouches when it came to the splatter but Mother of Tears trumps them hands down…combined!


The crimson glugs from every orifice, with standouts being the grotesque opening kill and a cringe-inducing vaginal penetration via wooden spear which culminates in an orgasmic spurt of satisfyingly deep red as the sharp end vacates its victim orally.


There is so much more besides but one of the most decadent moments comes when a mother nonchalantly disposes of her swaddled infant from a tall bridge and we watch its descent in humor-laced horror as the child bounces off a girder en route to its watery demise. With regards to carnal delights, Dario once again reminds us how well put together his daughter is and the Mater herself is shown in all her luscious glory as she delights in her second coming.



Marc Levie's THE PRAYING MANTIS (LE FESTIN DE LA MANTE) begins with the reminder that "for the praying mantis, killing the mate is part of survival." As Sylvia, a human praying mantis, actress Lou Boclain gives the best erotic performance as a non-human since Nastassja Kinski in CAT PEOPLE. But when she's not naked, it's the movie rather than her mate that's dead. This sensuous fairy tale for adults involves Sylvia and her two prey, Julien (Yann Chely), her cellist boyfriend, and Patrick (Sacha Kollich), the daredevil who pursues her like a wild animal only to find himself as the catch.


When Sylvia feels the devil -- or whatever it is -- coming over her, she banishes Julien from her bed. Trying to be the original alpha male, Patrick quickly takes his place. At first he thinks he has died and gone to heaven. He is having great sex with a gorgeous woman in her beautiful estate. What more could he ask? Safe sex would be one.


Sylvia is very physical in bed, biting lips, using her nails like ten sharp knives and choking her guys until they turn blue. THE PRAYING MANTIS has a lot in common with snuff films with the chief distinction being the high level of the production values. THE PRAYING MANTIS is sumptuously set and filmed. It's too bad that they couldn't have found more interesting things to say or do when not running around naked.


THE PRAYING MANTIS runs a long 1:36. The film is in French with English subtitles. It is not rated but would be R for sex, nudity and violence and would be acceptable for older teenagers. The film was shown as part of San Jose's Cinequest Film Festival (www.Cinequest.org), which ran March 3-14, 2004


While driving through the south of Belgium, the violoncellist Julien meets the mysterious and gorgeous Sylvia on the road and he immediately has a crush on her. They move together to his huge house and Julien builds a greenhouse for Sylvia in the field of his real state, where becomes her favorite place. One day, Sylvia has a strange behavior with Julien and asks him to stay alone at home.


When Julien leaves the house, she goes to a construction nearby her property and brings to her house the daredevil biker Patrick that is working in the building, playing erotic games with him. When Julien returns home, he surprises the couple having sex and the upset Julien leaves the place, going to the house of his friend and also musician Jean. But Julien is consumed by his passion for Sylvia, and when she tells him that she loves him, he understands her predatory need of life force of her mate.


Title: Le Festin De La Mante
Release Date: March 10, 2004
Runtime: 96 mins
Genre: Romance
All Genres: Romance, Sci-Fi, Thriller
Languages: French
Country: Belgium


Marc Levie
Lou Broclain ...Sylvia
yann Chely ...Julien
Sasa Nikolic ...Patrick (as Sacha Kollich)
Adele Jacques ...Claudine
Hugues Hausman ...Alain
Michel de Warzee ...Georges
Serge Swysen ...Jean
Renaud Boucquey ...L'homme du cimetiere
Samuel Lemaire ...L'homme a la caleche
Stephane Shoukroun ...L'homosexuel (as Stephane Schoukroun)
Felix Verbist ...Le cure
Ulysse Waterlot ...Le chef d'orchestre


Frederic Chanteux
Marc Levie
Marc Levie
Erik Vandebosch
Laurent Mersch
Ulysse Waterlot


'At the end of the copulation, the praying mantis eats its partner.' By Jean-Henri Fabre, 1823-1915 this fantasy film of love, sacrifice and the hunt tells the story of a beautiful woman who is cursed with the instinct of a praying mantis. The growing force inside her compels her to go on the hunt for a man to consume. Although terrified, she will do anything to keep the man she loves from death including searching for a young man willing to give his life for her.


Julien’s intensely romantic relationship with the mysterious Sylvia unravels when she senses the instinct of a praying mantis growing inside her. Terrified and unwilling to harm the man she loves, Sylvia searches for another lover, and the result is an engaging exploration of the connection between eroticism and self-sacrifice.


Director Marc Levie tempers fantastic images with familiar psychological insights. Sylvia’s lovers represent opposing sides of the masculine psyche: the faithful and sensitive Julien set against the risk-taking womanizer Patrick.


Similarly, Sylvia, who moves effortlessly between tenderness and cruelty, illustrates the extremes of the feminine personality. A perfect blend of the ordinary with the extraordinary adds incredible depth to this.


The supporting cast and the principle actors - Lou Broclain (Sylvia), Yann Chely (Julien), and Sacha Kollich (Patrick) - give moving performances, making each moment true to life, despite the story’s mythic narrative.


These performances combined with the poetic vision of Marc Levie and Michel Van Laer’s lush renderings of the French landscape make The Praying Mantis an unforgettable experience.


A rather off-beat delight from Belgium, Praying Mantis seemingly starts in a merely quirky manner before fully morphing into a somewhat chaotic supernatural story. Admittedly I didn't realize there were supernatural themes before seeing the movie but having them come as a surprise probably added to the story which is, at face value, simple enough: a man meets a strange woman on the side of the road, takes her home and they start a relationship of sorts.


But she is not what she seems and despite an obvious affection for him rebuffs his sexual advances only to accept a rogue into her 'bed' instead. But who is the real predator here? Well of course SHE is.


Although the film fails to make a lot of things clear and leaves a number of questions unanswered, the overall storyline is quite compelling as it really is an exploration of people's emotions and their reactions to their desires and love.


From the besotted 'hero' willing to give up everything even once he discovers the truth, to the poor girlfriend of the local daredevil who will sleep with anything and anyone, it's an interesting emotional montage.


However probably my favourite part of this flick is the simply delightful initial sex scene where the director flexes his creative muscles to emphasise not only the predatory nature of his femme fatale but the similarities between human mating and the mating dances of animals.


A seemingly playful blindfolded foreplay descends into a choreographed dance that is part animal, part graceful ballet. You almost forget the nudity it's so well done.


It's a theme that is later repeated in the background in one of the more surreal cinematic moments of all-time: where we have our hero playing the cello in the snow (during a heatwave) while his love cavorts ballet-style naked with her lover in a greenhouse in the background. Very impressive.


Overall this was an intriguing and enjoyable experience. So much so that you're willing to overlook the lack of explanation of a few key elements such as her background (probably not necessary in truth), the hero's discovery of his own corpse, and the seeming discordant chronology with our woodnymph/siren/succubus.


  「就在交配完的尚,雌螳螂就把牠的配偶抓住,按照習慣先啃食頸部,然後一小口一小口有條不紊吃得只剩下翅膀。」—法布爾(1823-1915)•法 國昆蟲學家。



You are my everlasting, ma dame de cœur, my lady of
heart reine de douceur queen of sweetness tu combles
mes fantasmes. You fill my fantasies scelles mes pensées
sealed my thoughts, dans mon esprit, nous valsons.


J'étends ici le disposé pour penser à toi et I lay here the willingness
to think about you and la jeunesse vous m'avez donné tellement
il ya bien longtemps you gave me so many years ago.


That during the day you can take a few moments to think of me,
for surely I'll be thinking of you. E quando o entardecer invadir
o dia expulsado a luz do sol, cada estrela que aparecer me dará
notícias suas e assim você adormecerá sempre em meu


Tes baisers errants, frétillants your kisses stray frisky tels les
rêves hantant mon esprit, such dreams haunting my mind a fleur
de peau de tes lèvres satinées, at edge of your lips brushed,
habitués à m'embrasser en douceur accustomed to kiss me gently.


A gente se entende de uma maneira tão simples que uma troca
de olhares já nos faz saber exatamente o que o outro deseja e
quer. We understand it in a way so simple that an exchange of
glances already lets us know exactly what the other wants.


Bonjour je t offre une bise I offer you a soft kiss elle sera
douce comme une brise it will be soft like a breeze elle sera
donnée avec tendresse it will be given with tenderness
elle sera donnée avec gentillesse it will be given with kindness
elle sera donnée par magie it will be given by magic.


As palavras são expressão máxima dos sentimentos, então que as minhas
possam ser para você nesse momento a alegria ea certeza de que és muito
querido e desejado por mim. Words are ultimate expression of feelings,
so that mine might be for you at this time the joy and the certainty that
you are well loved by me.


Tenderly the day dawned ... e logo já estava em meus pensamentos. And
soon it was in my thoughts. Imaginei te dando um longo beijo de bom dia
e te desejando muita tranqüilidade para enfrentar mais uma etapa em sua
vida. I figured giving you a kiss good evening and wishing you much peace
of mind to face one more step in your life.


In my mind, we waltz, lente et longue, mais langoureuse valse, slow and
long, languorous waltz but, sensuelle étreinte, sensual embrace. Fougueuse
passion, fiery passionil est irréel, it is unreal, mon amour pour toi ne s'en
ira jamais, my love for you will never go away.


Em tudo que faço, desejo, quero e penso tem você a me acompanhar, a me
fazer ouvir muitas palavras de carinho e ternura, que me fazem tão bem.
In everything I do, I want and I think you have to accompany me, to make
myself heard many words of love and tenderness, I do as well.


Eu sempre te quis tanto, mesmo quando ainda nem te conhecia e hoje que
tenho você comigo, sinto que todos os meus desejos podem se tornar
realidade. I always wanted to do so, even when not even know you and
now that I have you with me, I feel that all my wishes can come true.


Que durante esse dia você possa reservar alguns instantes para pensar em
mim, pois com certeza eu estarei pensando em você.


And when evening invade the day expelled the sunlight, every star that
appears will give me news of you and so you fall asleep forever in my heart.


Meus beijos são e serão sempre seus...my kisses are and will always be
yours .. com Amor ... with Love ...


Hoje certamente tudo dará certo. Today certainly everything will be
alright. O seu caminho será suavizado pela brisa do ar que chegará até
você de mansinho, trazendo com ela o aroma das flores que darão
colorido ao seu dia.


Reflets incarnadins sur nappe de rubis reflections on incarnadine sheet
ruby va-et-vient flamboyants au chant des clapotis back and forth to the
sound of splashing flaming.


Friselis infinis dans les eaux frétillantes ripple in the waters infinite wriggling
clins d'œil étincelants au ciel du repentir winks at the sparkling sky.


Your path will be smoothed by the breeze of air that will come to you softly,
bringing with it the scent of the flowers that give color to your day.


What every morning, you feel in your heart to make sure that life awaits you
with open arms to receive their expectations and accomplish them one by one.


I'm getting ready for my new vocation, I am the man who will unite the nations,
this is love, the language of love.


Excusez-moi, my pretty Mademoiselle, you are a French girl it's easy to tell,
me, I don't smoke not even a French cigarette.


but I love my pomme de terre, and always croquette, I am from Angleterre
and you are from France, and you will honor me by having a dance.


I'm getting ready for a new sensation, never kissed them in another nation,
internationally I'm in clover,I was a native on the boat ride over.


We've been together now for more than a day, and I am waiting to hear what
you say, come on, come on, I think you're telling me lies, you are Italian, I
can tell by your eyes, I love Chianti and I hope you'll agree that Zefferelli
makes the movies for me.


I try my French, Latin, Spanish and Greek, this is the language of love that I
speak, I never know if they're from Paris or Rome.


We stop the talking when I'm walking them home, one little kiss and then
heavens above, this is the universal language of love.


Are you ready for a new sensation, I'm going to kiss a girl from every nation,
this is love - the language of love.


You write with kisses on the book of love, me das hambre de ti, me das infinitos
give me hungry for you, give me endless caricias sosegadas, me das sosiego
restful touch, give me serenity como una flor que acaricia mis sentidos like a
flower that touch my senses.


Je voudrai t'offrir mes louanges et mes désirs I would like to offer you my
praise and my desires ecouter le battement de ton cœur et te sentir frémir
listen to the beat of your heart and feel you shudder je voudrai lire dans tes
yeux ravageurs I would like to see in your eyes la tendresse.


Fougueuse passion, fiery passionil est irréel, it is unreal, mon amour pour
toi ne s'en ira jamais, my love for you will never go away.


J'ai ressenti ta chaleur pénétrer dans mon sang I felt your heat into my blood et
cette lueur dans tes yeux que j'aime tant and that glimmer in your eyes I love so
much, tes bras entourent ma poitrine et tes lèvres effleurent les miennes your
arms around my chest and your lips brush against mine tout à coup je deviens
coquine le désir s'infiltre dans mes veines, suddenly I become mischievous
desire seeps into my veins...


Conoscere la pena di troppa tenerezza essere trafitti dalla vostra stessa
comprensione d'amore, being impaled by your own understanding of love,
E sanguinare condiscendenti e gioiosi and to bleed condescending and joyful.


Amo in te il tuo pensarmi e poi chiamarmi... I love you in your thinking and then
call me ... il volerti sfamare solo di me... just want to love you always ... amo
te... I love you ... e null'altro voglio che... and nothing else I want ... annullarmi
nel tuo respiro su di me... canceled in your breath on me...



Falling Water is an American supernatural drama tV series. A commercial
free advance preview of the pilot aired on Sept 21, 2016 ahead of its Oct
13, 2016 premiere. On April 3, 2017 USA Network renewed the series
for a second season, though with Rémi Aubuchon replacing Blake
Masters as the showrunner.


The pilot was written and co-created by Blake Masters and Henry Bromell
before Bromell died in 2013. In honor to his work, Bromell is still listed
as a co-creator and receives a producer credit. Three strangers realize
they are dreaming parts of the same dream. As they delve deeper into the
meaning behind their connection to each other, they realize that the
implications are much larger than their personal fates, and the future
of the world lies in their hands.


Falling Water has received mixed reviews from critics. Review aggregator
Rotten Tomatoes gives the series a score of 28% based on 18 reviews, but
they have an Audience score of 72%. The consensus says, "Falling Water
attempts complexity and intrigue but churns out an unimaginative concept
lacking a redeemable payoff." On Metacritic, the show has a weighted
average of 50/100 based on 14 reviews, indicating "mixed or average reviews."


From Universal Cable Productions and executive produced by The Walking
Dead's Gale Anne Hurd and her studio-based Valhalla banner, Falling Water
is described as a mind-bending thriller intersecting reality and unconscious
thoughts. The drama, which is being exec produced and directed by Juan
Fresnadillo (28 Weeks Later), tells the story of three unrelated people who
slowly realize that they are dreaming separate parts of a single common dream.


Each is on a quest for something that can only be found in their subconscious
— a missing girlfriend, a son, a way to communicate with a catatonic mother.
However, the more they begin to use the dream world as a tool to advance
their hidden agendas, they realize that their visions are trying to tell them
something and that their very real lives are at stake.


"People have always been fascinated by the subconscious and
Falling Water explores that topic in very unique and unexpected ways,
" said Jackie de Crinis, exec vp original series at USA Network.
"In this story, the immensely talented and prolific storytellers, Blake
and Henry, have created an innovative thriller and compelling vehicle
to bring the subject of dreams to television."


French actress Lizzie Brocheré (American Horror Story: Asylum) has
been cast as the female lead opposite David Ajala in USA drama pilot
Falling Water, a supernatural thriller from the late Henry Bromell
(Homeland), Brotherhood creator Blake Masters and The Walking Dead
executive producer Gale Anne Hurd.


Written and co-created by Masters and Bromell and directed by Carlos
Fresnadillo, Falling Water, from Universal Cable Prods., is described
as a mind-bending thriller intersecting reality and unconscious
thoughts. It tells the story of three unrelated people — Burton
(Ajala), Taka and Tess (Brocheré) — who slowly realize that they
are dreaming separate parts ofa single common dream.


Each is on a quest for something that can only be found in their
subconscious. However, the more they begin to use the dream world
as a tool to advance their hidden agendas, they realize that their visions
are trying to tell them something and that their very real lives are at
stake. Tess is a cutting edge trend spotter with an uncanny ability to predict
the next big thing, who is haunted by nightly dreams of an absent child.


An intersection between reality and unconscious thought, FALLING WATER
is the story of three unrelated people, who slowly realize that they are
dreaming separate parts of a single common dream. Each is on a quest for
something that can only be found in their subconscious.


However, the more they begin to use the dream world as a tool to advance
their hidden agendas they realize that their visions are trying to tell them
something more, and that their very real lives are at stake.


Displaying 10 out of 1082 comments
08/21/2017 16:28:45

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08/21/2017 15:51:05

08/21/2017 15:42:58

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Have a Nice Evening..Britt

08/21/2017 15:41:06

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Enjoy your Evening Sweetheart,

Hugs & Kisses

Megan xo

08/21/2017 15:32:34

Have A Beautiful Night

My Sweet Friend Love Sofia

08/21/2017 15:13:19

08/21/2017 14:59:18

08/21/2017 14:37:31

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08/21/2017 14:35:04


08/21/2017 14:30:40

I always thought loving someone

Is the greatest feeling,

But I realized that

Loving a friend is even better,

We lose people we love


We never lose true friends

With Love & respect

! ! ?v?? ?

*** MyBoomerPlace.com ***