I haven't seen a Nasty in over two months. Yes, it's getting to me.
Due to numerous family and working commitments, my cinematic enjoyment time has shrunk to nearly nothing. I get a chance to see one film a week on average, and while the allure of vintage gore, girls, and gross exploitation is overwhelming, being near exhaustion makes the amount of research involved for each piece seem like a Herculean task.
Am I a whiny bitch? Oh yeah. Do I feel that I am shirking a duty that I voluntarily shouldered? Uh-huh. Do I feel totally guilty even though I have no deadline and answer to no one but myself? Yup. Did Joe D'Amato have anything to do with the script for Pieces? I still don't know, but someday I will.
What I know for certain is this: the game will soon change, I've got a backlog of unwatched Nasties and related censorship martyrs to choose from, and there's too much at stake here for me to wuss out now.
At stake? Nothing that exists outside my own head, and while that may not mean fuck-all to anyone else, it is of tantamount importance to myself. And I'm excited. Because there's no fluff here, no Hollywood, mainstream, saccharine bullshit. Some of these films are shit. Others will scorch the minds of the unworthy and leave them screaming for a return to sanity. Either way, I think they're worth seeing at least once.
So I'm still here, I haven't forgotten, and I'll be back with the goods real soon. And you can count on that. Because my name's Justin. JustinCase.
No comments:
Post a Comment