thirty one days of horror part 6

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wow, i’m writing this post just because I’m watching this movie right now and I’m so mad. Don’t worry, I have a list of horror films I plan to update you on, but also yeah so I haven’t been able to completely watch a new horror movie every single day (I blame half of it on available selection; guys, I’ve seen a lot of horror movies) so I might as well use my outrage to drive this blog along.

Where did I leave off?

October 16th (ah, yes, see, another little fib. but you can question my time continuity  — I promise, it doesn’t impair the two twin strengths I have which feed this blog. That is to say, my profound and innate abilities to both analyze, and complain) *I Don’t Want to Live in This World Anymore:* Jesus Christ the reason I’m writing to you about this movie on a horror blog is because that’s just how much of a mess this story makes with, first, its tone, and second, its overall – just —

Here’s the thing, folks. If *I Don’t Want to Melodrama In HD Anymore* had simply exercised a little restraint and settled for either a believable plot, or an emotionally convincing one, as a movie, it might have done kind of all right. It would have also helped significantly if the directors/producers/whoever is responsible for this decision had been able to figure out if they were trying to film a comedy, a grime flick, or a David-Foster-Wallacian-reality-set one.

Instead the movie fumbles clumsily between scenes that only make sense if they’re meant to be comedic, to scenes that are clearly supposed to make the audience feel some risk, some fear, at least some anticipation, for the main character(s), completely failing to live up to Netflix’s upbeat synopsis and, indeed, living exactly up to the expectations I formed when I read its title the first time. Cuz son, you know what? *I Don’t Feel At Home In This World Anymore* is a damn depressing name, and I’m not in the habit of spending my leisure time crying over fictions. Or bothering with films about people who think they’re better off dead. Like, sheesh, impress me.

I’ll be honest I have no idea where Elijah Wood was in this movie. I’m also sad, because generally, I like Melanie Lynsky. I don’t know what promise she saw in this script. Her acting’s not bad, but that doesn’t mitigate my annoyance with the whole slopshow.

*I Fart When I’m Home and Call It Philosophy* could’ve committed to any single cohesive direction and potentially really succeeded. It would’ve been a great surprise dark comedy, but the few comedic moments – sorry, the few moments which accidentally happen to hit a comedy pitch – are too sparse. It might’ve been a touching story except for several bizarre scenes which stretch all bounds of belief. Not a single character has an emotionally relatable side.

I’m just extremely disappointed I wasted my life trying to watch this movie twice, and trying to believe that this could be a cool movie, only to feel that I should absolutely refuse to watch movies based on their inane titling or forgettable trailers. Judge a book by its cover, I say. At least that means an agent know how to market it. *I Have Such A Long Dumb Title* feels like it was just shit out and landed on the indie circuit. Sorry, Lynsky. Move on.

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