The Scary of Sixty-First (Dasha Nekrasova, 2021)
Where do you begin when describing this movie? Based on its trailer, it comes across as your typical dead-on-arrival shovelware you would expect to find greeting you on either Netflix and Shudder. You would be right too, but Dasha Nekrasova has one ace up its sleeve that the other still born tat don't: pure comedy. Intentional or not, this film had me laughing out loud like the first time I caught James Wan's Malignant (2021) and that's a rare achievment to accomplish when it come to a cynical curmudgeon like me.
 |
| "Princes, princes who adore you Just go ahead now" |
Nekrasova's film feels like Roman Polanski's The Tenant (1976) meets QAnon conspiracy theory, and the obvious link is not lost on me. Ironically, Nekrasova is a popular "bohemian layabout' podcaster, but I bounced listening to whatever she and her medicated political buddies wanted to talk about within seconds of hearing their synchronised nauseating slurring, for the sake of my very sanity. Ain't nobody got time for the zoomer equivalent of Loose Women type natter. Would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when the film's writers, Dasha Nekrasova and Madeline Quinn, came up with the script for this film, however. I would imagine it would have read like a 4chan illuminati post, written by some tinfoil hat wearing loony forgetting their xanax.
Shot in 16mm, the contemporary New York setting felt strangely anachronistic in this movie as it gave it an aged exploitation film vibe. The acting was generally poor, but faux-grindhouse movies like this aren't exactly striving for Daniel Day-Lewis, are they? I'll give it props for its commitment, though; seeing Quinn masturbate to various paraphernalia of Prince Andrew and of all places, Jeffrey Epstein's front doorstep, is both equally bold and hilarious. Try doing that, O Danny boy!
Make no mistake, The Scary of Sixty-First is essentially a complete train wreck, but it's an entertaining one and that gives it a begrudging nod from me, even if it's made by a bunch of wastegal hipsters, living in the Twitter bubble. Whether or not I'll feel the same way about it after repeated viewings will be the real test, however.
No comments:
Post a Comment