INTERN’S VIEW: ‘I Don’t Know How To Convey How I Feel About Bloodz vs. Wolvez’
[EDITOR’S NOTE: It’s a bittersweet moment in the history of The B-Town Blog as we bid adieu to our feisty, intellectual 17-year old Big Picture High School Intern Philip Benais – below is his final movie review, fittingly written in his inimitable, confident style. Philip is moving on to bigger and better things, but stay tuned though for his first, yet final Audio Podcast, which will be posted soon. And to Philip – we all wish you much success in your future!]
Bloodz vs. Wolvez: Directed by Z. Winston Brown; Malik Burke, Richard Carroll Jr. and Kandiss Marie.
Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t quite know how to convey what I feel about Bloodz Vs. Wolvez. I could easily discuss the provocative symbolism that puts Tarkovsky to shame. I could discuss how a film greater than even Citizen Kane or Casablanca managed to elude the presence of the so called ‘Academy’. I could discuss how no other auteur has illuminated the human condition better than Z. Winston Brown in the history of film…but that is not what I’ll talk about. Instead, I will demonstrate the preposterous assault on this perfect film by underprivileged rubes, who dare not be mentioned in the same sentence as a line of dialogue from this masterpiece. The filthy charlatans that snicker and sneer at what they could never comprehend or hope to accomplish. The blasphemous thieves that have pilfered sacred, nay, ANGELIC elements of this gift from a gracious God.
As many of these heathens will say, the film is poorly structured, laughably acted and plotted worse than an episode of Jersey Shore. LIES; monstrous concoctions of feeble intellects grasping for relevance in a world that has passed them by. The opening narration itself is a testament to the act of creation. No doubt while working on ‘Kinky Kong’ Brown was struck with the revelation of every great artist, promptly authoring narration that any mongoloid could give to Morgan Freeman. No, this brave, gentle soul chose instead to have the narration very difficult to hear and the actor unlisted. Think of the parallels in history, the greatest minds of the world snuffed into insignificance by tyrants. Hence, Brown has already given us a work filled with the passionate heartbeat of every oppressed soul throughout history. Oh, but it doesn’t stop there. The scene which follows gives us the character of Unnamed Real Estate Agent #1. The lack of any defining characteristics allows this actor (who must have been classically trained) to morph within the scenery and as such become the film. In a sense, the seemingly insignificant Mike Tyson sound alike has personified an audience disillusioned with 3-D and Michael Bay, the parlor tricks of soulless elite to inflict on its serfs.
The rest of the film presents moral dilemmas and dramatic tension the world itself is not ready for. On the surface, you could say the plot is nothing more than poor vs. rich, Palestinian vs. Israeli etc. but as we all know from cooking soup, scum sits on the surface. The true breadth and width of this wonder is realizing the culmination of every possible majesty this space rock has to offer us. That culmination is what some have dubbed the ‘Imma shit on yo newspaper’ scene, which so described is almost as if you were offered the chance to gaze into the wonders of the infinite and instead chose to do Mad Libs. What these loathsome creatures fail to realize is that the newspaper scene, however brief you may want to chastise it for being, emanates with the vitality of pure, unbridled love. The newspaper represents the faceless, heartless terror that every human being must conquer to realize their potential in a depraved world. The feces represents the rejection of oppression and thus the dawn of revolution, ushering in an age of enlightenment and utopia. Cujo’s facial expressions recognize the soul deadening monotony of everyday life as a figment of the giant tortoise’s imagination that we are all just dreams experiencing each other over and over and over, until eventually we must awaken to our death.
I cannot recommend the life changing experience of Bloodz. Vs. Wolvez anymore than I could recommend being alive. While it ended I was sucked into the vortex of holiness, and I knew then and there that I must devote myself to spreading the gospel of its nirvana. In the name of the cat noises, the sausage links and the holy newspaper, amen.
RATING: ****** / *****
[Armond White, eat your heart out. I’d like to thank all of my haters, without which none of this would have been possible. Keep up the great work letting ruffians like myself know how the cow ate the cabbage while your miserable lives crawl on without me.]
[EDITOR’S NOTE: Philip Benais
is was one of our Interns, a 17-year old student at Big Picture High School in SeaTac. He’s an aspiring Writer who loves movies, so we let him write reviews for us.
Read more of his work here.]