Founded by Peter Jackson in the late nineties, the island nation of New Zealand is one of my (current) favorite places on the planet. Oh, I've never been there, and know absolutely nothing about it, but in all seriousness, it's the current epicenter of shit that I find cool as f--k.
And if you can't trust the opinion of a guy in his mid-thirties who watched human beings judging dancing horses on television today, then who can you trust, right? While I don't know if New Zealand competed in f--king individual dressage or not, I do know that with Hunt For the Wilderpeople [review], they've already won the gold medal for my favorite movie of the summer.
But what's even more shocking? They might have just won the silver, too.
I didn't really know what I was getting into when I cranked up 2015's Deathgasm a few nights ago, but it took all of ten seconds to know that I'd made the right choice. Recommended to me by Brittnay Brittani over at Rambling Film [her rad post], writer/director Jason Lei Howden's feature debut is an absolute face-melter.
After his mom gets locked up for trying to blow a department store Santa, young Brodie is totally Harry Pottered and forced to live with his uptight uncle who's balls deep into Jesus. Even worse, is his douchey cousin, who may or may not be dating the hottest girl in his new school, who always feels the need to give Brodie shit.
Initially, Brodie handles all the the adversity well, and after meeting Zakk, a fellow metalhead, the two even start a band namedToothed Vagina Murder Boner Deathgasm. It's literally a garage band headed nowhere, until Brodie and Zakk stumble upon some ancient lyrics to something known as the Black Hymn.
This epic song, apparently, is the equivalent of saying Beetlejuice three times in a row, and after a pretty f--king rotten day at school, Brodie hastily decides to play it and inadvertently unleashes Hell upon their small town. And while undead residents making the streets run red with blood totally f--king sucks, Brodie's got even bigger problems.
Zakk, it turns out, is a total f--king a-hole.
And if you can't trust the opinion of a guy in his mid-thirties who watched human beings judging dancing horses on television today, then who can you trust, right? While I don't know if New Zealand competed in f--king individual dressage or not, I do know that with Hunt For the Wilderpeople [review], they've already won the gold medal for my favorite movie of the summer.
But what's even more shocking? They might have just won the silver, too.
After his mom gets locked up for trying to blow a department store Santa, young Brodie is totally Harry Pottered and forced to live with his uptight uncle who's balls deep into Jesus. Even worse, is his douchey cousin, who may or may not be dating the hottest girl in his new school, who always feels the need to give Brodie shit.
Initially, Brodie handles all the the adversity well, and after meeting Zakk, a fellow metalhead, the two even start a band named
This epic song, apparently, is the equivalent of saying Beetlejuice three times in a row, and after a pretty f--king rotten day at school, Brodie hastily decides to play it and inadvertently unleashes Hell upon their small town. And while undead residents making the streets run red with blood totally f--king sucks, Brodie's got even bigger problems.
Zakk, it turns out, is a total f--king a-hole.
