All floating in glass...
My review of Paul Tremblay‘s speculative collection, In The Mean Time, is now ending worlds at The Cult.
Further proof that less is sometimes more, Paul Tremblay returns with a collection of shorts that excite the imagination with their potential. Not potential as in underdeveloped ability, because Tremblay has already proven himself an accomplished craftsman, but potential as in the expressing of possibility. Unfettered by the constraints of the novel, Tremblay is free to explore the mystery of vague ideas without rendering the work unfulfilling. The spaces between the words, where these stories live and breathe, represent the author at his most interesting, ensuring that In The Mean Time will resonate long after the last page has been read.
Read all about it HERE.
SPOILER ALERT for all the babies out there who wet their pants and plug their ears every time someone mentions the slightest detail about a movie. This movie is over 30 years old and you’re never going to watch it, so fucking get over it, shitheads. If you want to see the best exploding human this side of Scanners, hit play. If you want to be a totes whiny wussburger, I’ll see your ass in the comments after school.
Never one for subtlety, De Palma followed his hit teenage psychic movie with another teenage psychic movie. Only lightning doesn’t strike twice and The Fury wasn’t based on a book by Stephen King. If you manage to sit through the entire thing, you will be rewarded with one of the most ridiculous climaxes ever filmed. John Cassavetes is blown six ways from Sunday and then a bunch of naked teenage girls start throwing tampons at him while shouting, “Plug it up! Plug it up!”
Posted in Film
Tagged Amy Irving, Brian DePalma, Carrie, John Cassavetes, Kirk Douglas, Menstruation, Pizza, Plug It Up, Psychic Powers, Scanners, Stephen King, Tampons, The Fury