It’s Time for Me to Come Clean About My Porn Addiction

Relax, it’s not what you think.  🙂

Life is full of stressors. Work, school, kids, money, politics, waiting for the new season of Bojack Horseman—it’ll drive you mad if you’re not careful. That’s why the concept of self care has become more important than ever. You have to find time to do things for yourself, for both your mental and physical well-being.

Some people do spa days. Some go to the gym or take up running. Some turn to drugs or alcohol, which while certainly not recommended, is unfortunately a fairly common type of self care. Personally, I like getting out with my camera (be it on the street or out in nature) and taking photos, or maybe dusting off the ol’ guit-fiddle to bang out a few bars to an old classic, like Love Me Do or Dead Skin Mask (if you don’t know that second one, by all means look it up).

Lately, though, free time has become more and more scarce; there are simply not enough hours in the day to work, write, run errands, keep a toddler alive, and still find time for myself. So, when I found something new that calmed my frazzled nerves, I took to it like a duck to water. The only problem is…it’s a little awkward to talk about.

Porn.

Wait, hold on. Not like regular porn.

Internet porn.

Come back! Let me explain.

On Reddit, that bastion of good taste and decorum, many of the subreddits on the site end with the word ‘porn‘. It’s just kind of a wink to people who get the joke. For example, the sub featuring stunningly beautiful landscape photos is called r/EarthPorn. Astro photography is in the sub r/SpacePorn. But my favorite? You’ll never guess.

Here’s a hint.

r/PowerWashingPorn has over 770,000 members. Popular videos in the sub routinely get upwards of 15,000 upvotes (the Reddit equivalent of ‘liking’ something). As the name implies, the vast majority of the videos are of people using power washers to clean…well, anything and everything they can.

Stone walkways are popular, as are concrete driveways, all types of vehicles, brick steps, wooden decks, patio furniture…the list goes on. And I know what some of you are thinking: “How can watching someone hose something off be enjoyable?” In response, I present Exhibit A—watch this guy spray off this filthy Alpha Romeo and tell me it doesn’t give you just a bit of satisfaction.

If that doesn’t do anything for you, let me give you another. This guy cleaning this brick driveway is a thing of absolute beauty. Watching this is almost like popping a Xanax for me. It soothes my soul!

Look, I know it might seem silly, but these vids are so satisfying that I’m just about ready to seriously declare them part of my self care regimen. Life can be ugly, messy, dirty business. If I find solace in someone blasting shit off a dirty sidewalk, then why the hell not, you know?

So give it a shot—spend some time on r/PowerWashingPorn and see if maybe it does the same for you., and for once you can have a porn addiction that doesn’t require your credit card number.

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The Legend of Cocaine Island (Netflix, 2019)

“If you knew where two million dollars was buried in the ground, would you dig the shit up? Fuck yeah I would, I did it one time.”

So begins the Netflix documentary The Legend of Cocaine Island, a wild, screwball tale of desperation, greed, and foolishness that’s almost too outlandish to believe.

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It all begins with a barefoot hippie named Julian and some sea turtles in Puerto Rico. Walking the beach one day looking for signs of the turtles he was helping his wife research, Julian found a waterproof rubber case drifting toward the beach. Hoping it was full of weed, Julian hid it and came back to it later, taking it home and throwing the case open to reveal something a bit stronger: about 18 bales of cocaine, nicely wrapped and organized, clearly lost on its way to a major drug deal. Paranoid and unsure what to do with the stuff (turning it over to the corrupt police of Puerto Rico seemed out of the question), Julian ended up burying the case out by the trailer where he was living off the coast, where it still sat to that day, just waiting for someone to come dig it up and become an instant millionaire.

Or, at least that was the story he told, over and over again, more than a decade later, to his friends and neighbors when they would convene around a campfire and consume large amounts of alcohol. It was a great story, and for the longest time that’s all it ever was—a great story to tell around a fire.

Enter Rodney Hyden.

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Initially a very successful contractor with eighty employees, the 2008 recession hit Rodney and his company hard, to the point of having to liquidate many of his assets to get by, and moving from his large home to a trailer park in the middle of nowhere—coincidentally into the same trailer park where a friendly old hippie named Julian lived.

Rodney enjoyed hearing Julian’s well-rehearsed tale of the buried cocaine, and never thought of it as anything but a story, until the friend of an employee approached Rodney with an offer to help him retrieve the cocaine.

Still down on his luck and unsure when his business would get back on its feet, Rodney found himself over time actually considering the notion of trying to find the buried treasure and providing for his family. Finally he decides to see it through, and—well, that’s where things go off the rails.

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Without giving too much away, the story involves a really quirky cast of characters, and development after development that leave you scratching your head, wondering how on earth people could be so naive.

Make no mistake, as a pure documentary, it’s not exactly award-winning filmmaking. There are cheesy re-enactments with over the top facial expressions, and music that helps reinforce just how absurd the whole thing is. Still, it’s a nice break from the rest of the true crime docs on Netflix (most of which revolve around murder and serial killers), and the 85 minute runtime goes by quickly. As for Rodney Hyden, he ended up with a whopper story of his own that will out do Julian’s any day, one that he’ll probably tell for years to come with his neighbors around the campfire.

October Horror Roundup

Some years it seems October passes me by before I realize it, and I find myself staring November 1st in the face with the startling realization that I neglected to watch any horror to get myself into the Halloween spirit. Granted, horror can (and should) be enjoyed all year long, but taking in some spooky stuff while the decorations are out is extra special.

This year I made it a point to not let one of my favorite holidays (shout out to Christmas) pass me by. I’ve been able to check out a handful of horror I hadn’t seen before, and it’s been wonderful. I tried to cover as much of the horror spectrum as I could, from over-the-top-bonkers gore spectaculars to more traditional creepfests. I lucked out in that none of it was especially bad, and some of it was incredibly good. So if you need a kick in the pants to rev up your Halloween spirit or want something scary to watch in the dark on All Hallow’s Eve, here’s a quick roundup of what I’ve seen so far this month. (All available on Netflix)

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Terrifier (2017) 

Terrifier is all about expectations. If you’re looking for subtle, nuanced fright, look elsewhere—subtlety is not to be found in this throwback to 80’s slasher flicks. Some have criticized the film for its derivative, paper-thin plot, but honestly, this film lets you know what you’re in for within the first five minutes. When you see a character’s eyeballs popped in their sockets, you should adjust your expectations accordingly.

Featuring a sadistic killer clown out on the town for a maniacal killing spree, the kills in Terrifier are straight up gnarly: decapitations, dismemberments, and one scene so shocking (featuring the world’s sharpest hacksaw) that it even got raised eyebrows from this gourmet of gore. There’s a degree of detachment to most of the violence thanks to its less-than-realistic effects work, which only serves to add to the campiness and pitch black comedy.

Bottom Line: If you’re into crazy, over the top gore and not looking to set the bar too high, this will be right up your alley.

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The Ritual (2017)

Based on the novel by Adam Nevill, The Ritual is very Blair Witch-esque, featuring some lost hikers in the hills of Scandinavia and a (seemingly) supernatural entity haunting them at their every turn. The film does a great job of mixing physical scares with psychological terror, and there’s a nice element of surrealism to keep you wondering exactly what the hell you’re watching.

Without getting into spoilers, once the men see the thing in the forest they have been running from, it’s one of the best reveals I can remember in a long time. A truly WTF climax, with about as satisfying an ending as a movie of this type can deliver. This one definitely surpassed my expectations.

Bottom Line: A nice take on a familiar story, well written and well executed.

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The Haunting of Hill House (2018) 

There’s not a lot about this 10-part series that hasn’t already been said. It’s probably the most buzzed-about thing Netflix has had since diving into original programming, and if you haven’t already seen it you might be wondering how something so critically lauded can possibly live up to the hype. All I can tell you is that it does, in spades.

Nearly every frame of Hill House’s ten hours is filled with a palpable sense of dread. You never know what’s going to happen at any given moment, and just when you think you’re safe something will catch you off guard. All of this done with very few jump scares (and excellent timing of the ones they do use), and practically no blood or gore.

The ending has been roundly criticized, but that is truly a nit being picked by people who should appreciate being given a piece of work this exceptional. When the worst thing people can say about a ten-part saga is that it’s not absolutely perfect, you know you’ve got something special.

Bottom Line: Believe the hype. A definite must watch.

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Oculus (2014)

In what turned out to be a double shot from director Mike Flanagan, Oculus has a few things in common with The Haunting of Hill House—namely how ghosts haunt and ultimately screw up an otherwise happy family, and some reverse storytelling to gradually reveal what really unfolded. Initially revealing a young boy killing his father after a dastardly bout of domestic violence, the film makes use of flashbacks to fill in the missing details, and show us how the adults were manipulated by a haunted mirror that had come into the family’s possession. (That sounds corny as I type it out, but it actually works in the movie, trust me.)

Now grown, the children are determined to document exactly what powers the mirror possesses before ultimately destroying it—but of course the mirror won’t go down that easily. The ending is quite satisfying, although a major part of the climax will be obvious to anyone who’s got even a basic knack for spotting foreshadowing.

Bottom Line: Not great but by no means bad, Oculus proves Hill House was no fluke for Flanagan.

***NOTE: Oculus is only available on Netflix until Nov. 1st, hurry if you want to see it.

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Tales of Halloween (2015)

In the mood for a string of campy mini B movies with gore galore and enough cheese to make fondue? Friend, meet Tales of Halloween. Made up of ten horror comedy shorts from various writers and directors, Adrienne Barbeau of Creepshow fame plays a local DJ who serves to string the tales together in a style reminiscent of old HBO favorite Tales From the Crypt.

The shorts run the gamut from amusing to decent to bad; a couple of them border on good, and some stink outright. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter—the stories are so short that the next one is on before you can complain about the last one. Gallows humor and corny comedic violence abound, making the fact that the content is not exactly top notch easier to swallow. Another reason to sit through it is the plethora of cameos, including horror directors John Landis and Mick Garris, The Rocky Horror Picture Show’s Barry Bostwick, Greg Grunberg of TV’s Alias and Heroes fame, and one of my all-time favorite comedians (and former writer on The Simpsons), Dana Gould.

Bottom Line: Worth watching if you are in the mood for total silliness but still want gore and violence. Willing to bet it would be 100% better with alcohol.

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Apostle (2018)

Quite different than the other ones I’ve mentioned, Apostle is a period piece set on a remote Welsh island in 1905. Our protagonist Thomas Richardson’s sister has been kidnapped by a religious cult, and is demanding ransom for her release. Traveling to the island amid followers and infiltrating the cult, Thomas sets out to find his sister and rescue her from the clutches of the madman ‘prophet’ and his disciples. Of course, there is much more to the story which it’s better not to know going in. Suffice to say, belonging to the cult involves bloodletting, and there’s a wicked bit of medieval torture involving a device called The Heathen’s Stand.

Apostle is a slow burn compared to much of the contemporary horror put out nowadays—it’s almost like a mashup of The Wicker Man and The VVitch. The dialogue and many of the finer points of the script are a bit slow, but the chills and violence more than make up for it.

Bottom Line: Could be better, could’ve been a lot worse. It’s easily good enough to stick with it until the very cool ending.

Well, there you have it! Let me know f you end up watching something I mentioned above, and don’t hesitate to let me know of any good horror you’ve seen recently that you’d recommend to close out October!

Happy Halloween, people!

 

I Am A Killer (Netflix, 2018)

From the doubt-casting phenomenon Making a Murderer to the excellent serial killer series Mindhunter, Netflix is up to its ears in crime shows. Now they’re out to prove that there is apparently no such thing as crime fatigue with the release of 10 episode docuseries I Am A Killer.

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Using a bit of a broad brush, each episode of I Am A Killer focuses on a different death row inmate. All the men on the show have been convicted, sentenced to death, and fully admit to their crimes (although to what degree some of them admit to being involved is called into question) and they all discuss their crimes frankly, in their own words. While some episodes are more compelling than others, even the weaker ones are still interesting and easily watchable for fans of true crime.

One of the better episodes of the series tells the story of Justin Dickens, an addict who killed a customer during the attempted robbery of a jewelry store. He claims the customer charged him and fought for his gun—he shot the customer once in the torso, then the customer yanked on the gun once more, causing the gun to go off and deliver a fatal head shot. The prosecution in the case presented a vastly different version of events, and painted Dickens as a cold-blooded, calculated killer, claiming forensic evidence proved Dickens was lying. The other victim from the jewelry store, however, provides an eyewitness account that matches up exactly with Dickens’ version.

Why does this matter? Because in a crime of this type, if the victim provokes the perpetrator, the death penalty is taken off the table. The prosecution claimed Dickens shot the customer without a struggle, and succeeded in getting the death penalty for  Dickens.

Another standout is the story of Kenneth Foster, Jr., who received the death penalty after a friend he was riding in a car with shot and killed a man; he was convicted and sentenced under Texas’ Law of Parties, which states a person is equally responsible in the committing of a crime if they are believed to have solicited, aided, or encouraged the person who physically committed the crime.

Possibly the most thought-provoking episode features Joshua Nelson, who, at two months past his 18th birthday, teamed up with his 17 year old best friend to brutally murder a mutual friend in order to steal his car. Now 40, Joshua makes a compelling argument regarding the notion that he, despite what he’s done, is on some level deserving of forgiveness, and that he is redeemable. It’s an argument the victim’s mother (who still vividly remembers the chilling smirk Nelson gave her in the courtroom during the trial) doesn’t buy for a second.

And that’s exactly what makes the show so interesting. The team behind it does their best to show each case from all angles: the prosecution and defense, the victims’ families, even the criminals’ families and friends. Some may argue this makes it an attempt to humanize people who deserve no sympathy. I would argue that the only ones humanized in the series are the ones who can be.

James Robertson, for example, featured in Episode 1, comes off as an unfeeling monster as he recounts coming to the conclusion that the only way to improve his situation in prison was to murder his cellmate. His reasoned that the act would move him out of the unsatisfactory living conditions and frequent solitary confinement he’d been dealing with, and get him what he considered an upgrade by putting him on death row.

The show is not perfect; the weakest episodes come close to being boring, and the good ones leave you wishing they’d have spent more time examining their subjects. Either way, while I Am A Killer may not change anyone’s view on capital punishment, it is almost certainly guaranteed to make you stop and think.

Behold My Dirty Little Secret

I need to confess something. I recently found out I’m into something kind of taboo. It’s something that’s generally frowned upon in popular society, but after stumbling across something on the internet recently I grew curious, and eventually realized I had to give in to my strange desires. And it all comes back to this woman:

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Schlemiel! Schlimazel! Hasenpfeffer Incorporated!

When I was a wee lad, I loved Happy Days. Arthur Fonzarelli was my favorite character on TV, but I loved anything and everything related to the show, including its spinoffs, Mork & Mindy (RIP Robin Williams) and Laverne & Shirley.

Played by now-famous director Penny Marshall (Big, Awakenings, A League of Their Own, less impressive things after 1992) was co-titular character Laverne DeFazio, a tough-talking Brooklynite living in Wisconsin who, along with the embroidered ‘L’ on all her clothes, had one memorably odd trait: she enjoyed a beverage that churned the other characters’ stomachs—Pepsi and milk.

I know what some of you might be thinking, but hang on a minute—just hear me out. Do you like root beer floats, or as an old relative of mine used to make, Dr. Pepper floats? As was pointed out in the Reddit thread I recently stumbled across, it’s the same concept, just with a slightly different form of dairy.

As a matter of fact, what I found when I did a little research into the unusual concoction is that it’s not entirely uncommon on the East Coast, and similar to a drink from Latin America in which condensed milk is added to malta (a carbonated beverage sort of like cola). Thailand uses condensed milk in it’s version of iced milk tea, and the Vietnamese commonly add condensed milk to coffee—adding milk or cream to stuff is not as weird as it seems, honest.

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Cha Yen, Thailand’s iced milk tea

Always one down to try new beverages, I decided to give it a shot and see how odd it actually was. It turned out to be pretty good! It took a little tweaking to get it just how I liked it, but nowhere near the stomach-churning gagfest that Lenny and Squiggy made it out to be on TV. I was all in, and before long I was hooked.

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Back when this photo would’ve been taken, who would’ve guessed the marvelous actor Michael Mckean would become?

As for my own personal recipe? I’ve spent the last couple weeks experimenting, and here’s what I’ve come up with: I use Pepsi Zero Sugar (Coke Zero Sugar is good too) and almond milk (vanilla almond milk would be great) in about a 60/40 ratio, topped with a splash of cream and a trickle of almond extract. Absolutely delicious.

If you’re (perhaps understandably) skeptical, start slow—try some root beer with a splash of cream. If you like it (which you should, it’s basically a melted root beer float), get bolder. Try some milk, or almond milk, or soy milk, whatever you desire. You can even switch up the soda you use. Like Sprite? Do it. Orange Fanta? That’s a liquid creamsicle, baby! Go for it—you may just end up with a new favorite drink. ***Side note: what kind of booze can be added to take this beverage to the next level is yet to be determined.

If you like the sound of the recipe I came up with above, by all means give it a whirl and let me know how you like it. I call it the DeFazio.

Thanks, Laverne.

 

 

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Movie Review: Harry Benson—Shoot First [2016]

There’s a chance you may have never heard of photographer Harry Benson, and if it were up to him, he probably wouldn’t have it any other way. But if you do a quick Google search of the man, you’d probably recognize many of his photos.

Harry Benson is responsible for some of the most iconic images of the last half of the twentieth century, perhaps most notably for a photo of The Beatles in a rambunctious pillow fight the night they found out I Want to Hold Your Hand hit number one in the US. That assignment to shoot the young band in Paris (which he hadn’t originally wanted) led to not only a decades-long friendship with The Fab Four, but to a prominent career—as a portrait photographer of celebrities, photographing every living president from Eisenhower to Obama (as well as a pre-presidential run Donald Trump), and award-winning photojournalist. The 2016 documentary Harry Benson—Shoot First takes a look back at the legendary Scot’s career and the stories behind some of his most famous images.

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Beatles, Paris 1964

To say Benson’s career has been remarkable is an understatement. At times it seems the man has had an almost Forrest Gump-like knack for being in the right place at the right time, capturing one historic moment after another (a photo of Robert Kennedy’s wife in the moments after his assassination is another of his most iconic photos; famous photos of the reclusive Greta Garbo and a couple passionately kissing at a bar relied almost entirely on luck). But what a family member states, and what becomes more clear as the film goes on, is that Harry Benson worked harder than most of his peers, and many of his iconic shots exist only because he made them happen. He had to do whatever it took to get the confidence of whoever it was he wanted to shoot, and once he got in the room with them he had to make them comfortable enough to let their guard down so he could capture them as they really were, not the posed, stiff photos many studio photographers got (Benson famously hates studio photography).

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Bobby Fischer, Iceland 1972

He has a knack for making people feel at ease, evidenced by the fact he has photographed some of the most private people in the world at some of their most private moments: Quarterback Joe Namath at home in his legendary bachelor pad; Chess champion Bobby Fischer nude in the shower; Elizabeth Taylor in her hospital bed before and after surgery to remove a brain tumor; Michael Jackson in his Neverland Ranch bedroom; and possibly my favorite of all his photos, a backstage shot of country legend Dolly Parton in silhouette, “putting on her face.”

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Dolly Parton, Nashville 1977

Shoot First is not a hard-hitting, warts-and-all documentary—rather, it’s pretty adoring of its subject. But it’s not hard to realize he’s earned the admiration he’s received over the years. The film takes us back to Harry’s roots as a tabloid photographer on Fleet Street in London (where Benson says he got the ability to snap photos quickly and find perspectives other photogs might miss), as well as a look at the gut-wrenching work he did in Somali refugee camps—he has always maintained that he is, first and foremost, a photojournalist—reminding us that hard work paid off for him, and, when looking at his portfolio, he truly has an eye for outstanding photos.

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Dr. Milton Avery with refugee family, Somalia 1981

The film doesn’t touch on any technical aspects of his work—the type of camera Harry uses or any settings he used for a given photo are barely mentioned, if at all—and he would probably tell you that’s because that stuff largely doesn’t matter. What matters most is being ready and anticipating the shot before it presents itself. And to that end, Harry Benson is a master. He’s also extremely affable and self-deprecating to boot, which makes listening to him tell the stories behind his photos a joy.

If you have even a passing interest in photography, pop culture, or landmark moments of the 20th century, there’s a good chance you’ll like this film. You can stream Shoot First on Netflix, or check out some of his iconic images here and here.

 

Movie Review: Brawl in Cell Block 99 [2017]

I’ve long contended that many comedians (or at least comic actors, if not stand ups) have the potential to be outstanding dramatic actors. Once seen as an unusual casting choice, comic actors have repeatedly proven their chops in dramatic roles, from Robin Williams and Will Smith to Will Ferrell and even Adam Sandler. I still stand by my theory that Dave Chappelle has at least one (possibly mutltiple) award-winning dramatic performance in him—that is, if he wants to do it, or if the right director can convince him to step up to the plate.

The latest actor stepping out of his comedic comfort zone is Vince Vaughn. Since his breakout role in 1996’s Swingers, Vaughan has found success almost exclusively with parts in comedies like Old School, Starsky and Hutch, Wedding Crashers, and Dodgeball. He’s shown a yearning to “go legit” in dramas for years, most notably starring as Norman Bates in Gus Van Sant’s 1999 remake of the Alfred Hitchcock classic Psycho, but has now gone on a run of dramatic performances that has gotten him some attention: a lukewarm turn as Frank Semyon, the heavy in the critically-panned second season of HBO’s True Detective; hardass (but still slightly funny) Sgt. Howell in Mel Gibson’s acclaimed World War II drama Hacksaw Ridge; and what may be, depending on your tastes, either his best or worst dramatic performance to date—as an ex-boxer stuck between a rock and a hard place in S. Craig Zahler’s homage to 70’s revenge exploitation flicks, Brawl in Cell Block 99.

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Brawl features Vaughn as Bradley Thomas, a man in the unique position of being a good man with a strong moral compass, while also being the ultimate badass. Working at a service station at the start of the film, Bradley is promptly laid off—only to drive home early and discover that his wife is seeing someone else. After a tantrum in which he destroys/disassembles his wife’s vehicle by hand (a glimpse of the violence he’s capable of), Bradley and his wife Lauren (played by Dexter’s Jennifer Carpenter) admit their relationship hasn’t been the same since the miscarriage that rocked them to their core. They decide to recommit to each other and try for another baby, and Bradley decides to go back to running drugs for his dealer friend Gil, to which Lauren reluctantly agrees.

Fast forward 18 months and Bradley is driving a much nicer car to a much larger home after a day of making deliveries for Gil. We learn that Lauren is expecting again, and the loving couple couldn’t be happier—although we all know that can’t last.

Bradley accepts an offer he can’t refuse from Gil, who has partnered with a Mexican drug lord. The job goes south, and Bradley’s partners in the job end up in a shootout with police. Rather than escape scot-free, Bradley kills one partner and injures another, ending the shootout and saving police lives, before being arrested without further incident.

After being sentenced to 7 years in a medium-security prison, Bradley is visited by a henchman of the Mexican drug lord, who tells Bradley he is now indebted to the man to the tune of 3.2 million dollars to make up for drugs lost in the failed job. He can erase that debt, however, if he takes out a prisoner the drug lord wants dead. And if he doesn’t…terrible things will be done to his wife and unborn baby. The catch? The prisoner Bradley is to take out is in a different, maximum-security prison. Bradley must figure out a way to get himself transferred there, and his plan to do so is ultra violent.

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S. Craig Zahler’s first film, 2015’s Bone Tomahawk, was a fantastic debut—an original concept (a mashup of western and horror) made even better with stunning cinematography, vivid characters, and exceptional dialogue. While these elements are also present in Brawl in Cell Block 99, they are there in smaller doses, and don’t quite match the brilliance that made Bone Tomahawk so great. That’s not to say Brawl isn’t good—it just has different ambitions, calling to mind the films of Clint Eastwood or Charles Bronson.

The biggest quality this film shares with Zahler’s previous effort is the deliberate pacing and slow build to a savage, intense climax. The director spends quite a while detailing how Bradley has everything of value taken from him until, despite the fact he was not the most likable character at the start of the film, you end up rooting for him to get some sort of justice against those who have put his back against the wall. Time passes quickly despite the film’s 2 hour and 12 minute running time, a testament to Zahler’s ability to grab the viewer’s attention and not let go. His next film is Dragged Across Concrete, re-teaming him with Vaughn and co-starring Mel Gibson, a film about police brutality and cops caught up in a violent underworld. I, for one, can hardly wait.

What will make or break this film for you is the incredibly graphic displays of violence Bradley uses to get transferred to Red Leaf, the maximum-security hellhole that houses the man he is to kill, and the subsequent acts he performs once he gets there. To call it unflinching is an understatement—a couple of scenes are absolutely jaw-dropping in terms of what they show you, on the level with some of the most over the top horror movies out there. And Brawl in Cell Block 99 is nothing if not over the top.

As a matter of fact, it requires a pretty hefty suspension of disbelief to make this movie fly (why did he shoot his partners rather than escape? How is it this “ex-boxer” has a fighting style closer to Krav Maga? How in the hell does he have the stomping power of a hydraulic press?), but if you’re able to do so (and have the stomach for it)…you’re in for a wild ride.

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