Freaky Tales (2025) trailer

via YouTube

I know that this movie has been looking for distribution for a while. I don’t know why people would think to sit on this, given the current Moment™ Pedro Pascal is having.

I like everything that I see here. It’s definitely a throwback style to a movie that I think audiences are actually looking to see. I sincerely hope that the hype around Pedro will actually put butts in seats to the point where people actually think about investing in these smaller movies.

It’s obvious even from the trailer that this movie is a labor of love. The vibes appear impeccable and the early reviews, especially from sources that I trust, seem positive.

I honestly can’t wait to see this.

The Surfer (trailer): I am looking forward to this!

via Lionsgate

So I first saw this trailer at the Florida Film Festival programming announcement party last week.

I am an absolute Nicolas Cage fan girl, now that we are firmly in an unhinged era. I am glad to see him able to take roles that allow him to do the absolute most.

I am going to do my best to see this movie at the festival, because it will probably sell out pretty quickly.

Work is Hell: Notes on the Sterile Corporate Liminal Nostalgia Aesthetic

So, Severance, right?

I was terribly late to the party, only binging season one right before the finale. I think it’s a masterpiece, unfortunately regulated to AppleTV instead of a more accessible platform. It’s one of those perfect melding of style and storytelling that does not come around often.

But the style is what has haunted me the most. The aesthetics of the show are grounded in a design tradition that has lasted over fifty years. It does a lot to ground these characters in a certain vibe, one that lends to a general air of paranoia.

I believe that online communities such as r/LiminalSpaces on Reddit have given us a good introduction to the concept of a liminal space. Eerie photographs, usually lit by harsh florescent bulbs, but all with this sense of oddity. It is the idea of having evidence of the world as it exists without any people in it. It’s voyeuristic, as if we are witnessing things that should not be seen.

In corporate culture, these liminal spaces are usually shown by immaculate office spaces at the height of modernism but completely abandoned.

In shows such as Severence, this is familiar but unsettling, not only because of the historical roots of the design elements, but because it has recently been co-opted by other similar “man vs. corporate diety” stories in the last ten to fifteen years.

I have started to call this aesthetic “sterile corporate liminal nostalgia.” It is rooted in hypermodern design trends that began in the 1960s and solidifying in the corporate design of the 1970s. At the time, it was reflecting a utopian ideal of the future that technology was going to give us, with the space race having us look to the stars. This isn’t a grimy cyberpunk dystopia, where the world is human, lived-in, and dirty. It is elevated, something that seeks the pinnacle of human achievement.

We can see this hypermodernism reflected in the movies at the time, such as THX 1138, Westworld, Star Trek, and 2001: A Space Odyssey. Minimalist environments, with clean, efficient lines and harsh florescent lighting that leaves nothing in shadow. But even then, as seen in Westworld and 2001, this utopian ideal was hiding something rotten under the impeccable style.

When we place these images into a 21st century context, we as the audience are immediately suspicious. The details give us a sense of nostalgia, a harkening back to that simpler, pre-Internet age where technology was advanced enough to make hard sci-fi believable but still distant.

Today, though, we recognize this as a naive ideal. The technology shown is actually archaic, more deserving of a museum display than an actual sci-fi future. We, with the benefit of hindsight, are aware that the future on display is one that never-would-be and couldn’t-possibly-be. We understand that the characters that populate this world are naive to trust this world and its systems, because we are automatically looking for the cracks in the pristine walls.

We know something is wrong, and we are on the alert.

While I think that Severance is the prime example of this trend, it is not new. A lot of 21st century media relies on this, from Black Mirror’s “White Christmas” episode, to 2018’s Maniac (an underrated Netflix original) and 2020’s DEVS.

It also is used to great effect in online-based media like Kane Pixel’s The Backrooms and to a certain extent Don’t Hug Me, I’m Scared. Adult Swim has made an entire brand identity around this sarcastic liminal vibe, and in fact what is in my opinion one of their most criminally underseen originals, Dream Corp, LLC, exists in a grimy sideroom of this very aesthetic.

One unifying thread to every story that establishes this aesthetic is how it plays into stories of corrupt corporate structure and how it contributes to cultural feelings of alienation. It is the individual against the machine and all the ways that it crushes us, setting us against our fellow man for the benefit of the bottom line. It is about living authentically in a world of conformity, and discovering yourself through the discovery of the dystopia rotting away under the utopian veneer.

And while it is a dystopia, I think that in these stories we can find the hints of the classic science fiction hope. The triumph of humanity against terrible odds. We want to root for the underdogs. We want to believe that if we fight, that things can actually get better.

Myths teach us how to live. And these myths tell us that even if we find ourselves living in these corporate hellscapes, there is a way to carry on with our humanity intact.

And I don’t see that as a bad thing.

Novocaine Review: Goofy Good Times

Oh, Jack Quaid, I don’t know how to quit you…

Honestly, I saw Novocaine at an AMC preview and my initial thoughts were firmly in the “meh” category. At first glance, it is a standard Action Idiot plot. Guy meets girl, guy falls in love, something happens to girl, guy stumbles his way to her rescue.

Is it juvenile? Yup. Kinda problematic? Sure. Weirdly paced out with iffy plot choices? Oh, absolutely.

But! The more that I’ve sat with it and had time to think it over, I am ready to say I love this movie.

I am going to try and minimize spoilers here, but the plot is quickly summarized like this:

Nathan Caine (Jack Quaid) is a middle manager at a bank with a unique quirk: he was born with a genetic mutation that doesn’t allow him to feel pain, from basic cuts to broken bones. He lives a life of careful anonymity, keeping people at arm’s length due to a history of bullying. He falls in love with a teller at his bank, Sherry (Amber Midthunder). When the bank that they work at is violently robbed and Sherry is taken as a hostage, Nathan goes out on his own to save the girl who changed his life.

First of all, let’s get it out of the way: Jack Quaid was made for this. Possibly grown in a lab. His wide-eyed innocent Sweet Boy™ face is just the only way that this could be taken seriously. He plays even the most unrealistic scenario with a complete earnestness that requires unbelievable skill. You believe that he’s getting punched and that he’s getting through it. We must protect this nepo-baby at all costs.

The character of Nathan Caine is one of those unrealistic action heroes where in any other scenario, this would not play. He is a thing that can only exist in movies, where his inability to feel pain is transferred from a distinct possibility of death is always lurking into a legitimate superpower. This was done very well, in my opinion, with the character taking a bite of pie for the first time as an adult because his parents instilled a fear of solid foods early on in life so he wouldn’t bite off his own tongue. It establishes early on why this character is the way that he is, and why he is so willing to go so far to save his damsel in distress. He finally has a reason to push through his fear and be something more than a middle manager at a small bank. He is kind, and resourceful, and that never changes.

Amber Midthunder has a very interesting role as a damsel in distress. She is so good, and matches Quaid’s energy perfectly as the more savvy, sarcastic half. I am so glad that this actress is having her moment. I fell in love with her on Legion (and you should watch Legion, it’s the best Marvel movie never made.) and she is great in every part.

While I have love overall for this movie, there are some places where it falls into the usual ‘90s style action comedy pitfalls. The first is a mismatched pacing. The first big fight has Nathan shoving his hand into a working deep fryer to grab a gun, which seems to me like a thing you should lead up to since it’s a completely disabling maneuver. It’s flashy and good for trailers, I’ll give you that, but every fight after that seems underwhelming, since it shows that he’s not only unable to feel pain, but also unable to be really injured.

There are also some moments of pretty confusing editing choices, but I am willing to give it some slack in this regard given the mid-tier budget. I think the editors did the best they could with the footage that they grabbed.

The only major caveat I would have is a moment of glorifying what appears to be abuse or self-harm scars, it’s not explained which. I think this should be something that people should know going in, but it is extremely brief so as long as you go in knowing this. It is ironic, given that this is a movie where a guy fights his way through a plot unintentionally and intentionally getting hurt and injured, but it certainly shocked me in the theater.

Is it perfect? Hell, no.

But I do predict this movie going the way of a lot of fondly remembered Action Idiot movies: a cult classic to throw on for a Friday night hanging out with some buddies, smoking a bowl with a couple friends.

The Nosferatu Discourse

Honestly, I get it…

The vampire wasn’t fuckable.

People who have grown up in a world where vampire are a sexy cool subclass of monster, an object of lust as well as a lusty object, are obviously going to be disappointed in the graphically monstrous depiction of Count Orlok in Egger’s Nosferatu.

As someone who grew up in the height of Twilight’s popularity, when being emo or scene was more aesthetic than unifying philosophy, I always held vampires at arms length because of the sexy connotations in the modern understanding of the monster.

When confronted with an object of lust that is presented as ugly and monstrous, it is only natural that it will be rejected with absolute disgust. When you grew up watching Gary Oldman seducing Mina Harker in Coppola’s Dracula, you have that underlying connection between “vampires” and “romance.” You want that relationship where you give yourself to the other, and want the aesthetics of a ruinous romance without all of the messy reality of how visceral a vampiric relationship would actually be.

We don’t really see the blood in these vampiric romances. We don’t have to deal with the arterial spray that would come if a vampire bit on the wrong side of the neck. We don’t have to deal with the clean up. We don’t have to face the horror that such an event would cause.

And why would we want to, when we could be swept away in a ball gown by a tall dark mysterious handsome someone who has centuries and millions to choose from… and chose you?

I was reading a book recently that put a finger on the exact problem that I had. In The Limits of Horror: Technology, Bodies, Gothic, the author Fred Botting explores the disconnect between gothic ideals and their modern interpretation. It explores the idea that gothic, in it’s nature of using monsters to highlight the ingrained fears of a repressive society and a modern world that no longer has the same ingrained taboos.

A notable section covers that commercial appeal of vampires and the subculture that has built up around them. When reporting on the “World Dracula Congress,” Botting makes an interesting observation:

“While the superficial celluloid attractions of vampirism remain good for business, there is certainly no wholehearted indulgence in a life of degradation and defilement. The report details some of the ‘other horrors’ besetting the delegates: Arlene Russo, for example, an editor of a vampire magazine, ‘is shocked at eastern Europe’s lack of vegetarian food, and at having to walk back from the restaurant through an unlit pine forest after midnight’. Vegetarianism and a disinclination for midnight darkness seem utterly out of place at an event celebrating a nocturnal bloodsucker.”

— Fred Botting, "Limits of Horror"

Why, when we so love vampires, do we shy away from them when their ugly, monstrous nature is made obvious?

The problem is, fundamentally, that we have all been collectively lied to. Dracula has been sexy-coded since Bela Lugosi was cast in the 1930s, with each generation of vampire getting sexier and sexier until we’ve completely culturally disconnected the monstrous from the monster. Nosferatu, from its copyright infringing roots has always been about the monster and its hold on a culturally-ideal woman.

The cultural taboos that Dracula spoke to in its gothic roots never went away, it was the cultural view of Dracula that shifted. We chipped away at the monster until we were left with something palatable and safe to lust after, and now that we are confronted with the reality of the monster we are horrified. If we are attracted to vampires, and this is a vampire, what does this say about us? It is better to just reject the unlovable parts and keep what we can tolerate instead of facing the horror head on.

We would censor and avoid an uncomfortable truth within ourselves to pacify an unrealistic ideal.

But, just as Toho’s Godzilla and the Monsterverse can coexist, we shouldn’t condemn a beautfully crafted homage to one of the tripumphs of early film just because our modern understanding of the vampire has shifted. If we can’t confront the core of our feelings, that we are in some sense morbidly attracted to the monstrous, we should not pretend like our feelings are harmless.

If you lust after the creatures of the dark, don’t be surprised when an actual monster is there to meet you.

Welcome to Trash Media Opinions

No, we aren’t proudly declaring bad takes.

Instead we are proudly declaring our love for the misfits, the tacky, the B-movies, the genre pictures that make people question your taste.

We are hear to talk about the things that people call trash.

And just remember, something doesn’t have to be good for you to love it.