"That's Morality for you."

There are some sick movies out there.

I would often make fun of people who couldn’t handle certain types of movies. Films like Romper Stomper, Hate, The Accused, Precious and American History X frequently received harsh criticisms from the poor unfortunate souls who simply could not stomach the subject matter. While they dealt with very delicate themes, they were nowhere near as disturbing as other movies out there. The only reason to proclaim these films unwatchable is if you have suffered these atrocities first-hand… or your level of empathy borders on the supernatural. Of course we share the anger. Of course we feel their pain. We cry with the characters and we follow their grief but when all is said and done, we should be able to let it go. After all… it’s only a movie.

I was living in Connecticut. Soon after college I had decided to leave the island for a couple of years in order to gain new perspective, broaden my horizons, see the world from a different point of view… some bulls**t like that. Danny, Julio and all my old friends from college, were back in Puerto Rico. I still kept in touch.

On one particularly uneventful morning, I decided to call Danny. We spoke about the usual and he mentioned a movie he had just seen but would never see again. There was genuine disgust, with perhaps a hint of fear, in his voice. Dan wasn’t the type to shy away from films so easily. Neither was Julio. When I spoke to him, he told me about a movie Danny had recommended that completely shattered his comfort zone and chilled him to the core. I believe he may have cursed Danny’s name in the process.

It affected both of them? What could be so disturbing? These guys were moviegoing badasses. We had lived through some of the most grotesque films on print. We clenched our teeth and hardened our hearts while facing hideous scenes of violence and abuse. We had survived Passolini’s Saló, or the 120 Days of Sodom. Talk about disgusting! I could take the time to offer an in depth critique of the unsettling Italian masterpiece using only the most technical and professionally critical vocabulary. However for brevity’s sake I shall summarize. That movie was F**KED UP! Violence, sodomy, poop… lots of poop, Nazis and rape... THE END. I have no desire whatsoever to sit through that movie again. I emerged exhausted and perturbed but ultimately unscarred.

What could possibly be nastier than that?

Irreversible.

That was the name of the film that had left my dearest friends cinematically catatonic. Wussies. I would have to see this for myself.

Not only did I find a copy of the film on DVD, I bought it… if only to mock my weak-willed acquaintances. I went home and prepared for my movie night. I pulled out an enormous plastic bowl from the kitchen cupboard. It was the kind of bowl used for mixing large amounts of salad. I filled it with Lucky Charms and just about emptied a half-gallon of milk. I got comfortable and the feature began.

So… there’s some old man in his underwear talking about some random crap. The camera is spinning. A little dizzying, but I can take it. Some guy is walking into a club. It’s an underground club. It’s gross and dark. The guy seems pissed. He’s looking for someone. He sees him. He takes a fire extinguisher and OH! OH DAMN! WHAT THE… ARE YOU SERIOUS?! HOW?! The camera spins. I am dizzy. Like Memento, the story is playing backwards. After each scene, the camera does a little dance and I am thrust back in time to the events that happened just before the scene I just watched. So why was the guy so pissed? Oh I see. It’s because… HOLY S**T! NO NO NO! ENOUGH! CUT GODDAM IT! CUT! What the hell is wrong with this guy?! I had to hold back the urge to punch my T.V. My eyes were watering. Not so much out of sadness… but out of pure unadulterated rage.

When the perpetual mental thrashing was over, it took me several hours to fully calm down. I looked to my side only to find a gigantic bowl filled with some colorful uneaten slop. I hadn’t touched my cereal. At all. For the entire hour and a half, I had completely forgotten about everything.

I called Danny. I told him I had just finished watching the movie. I may have cursed his name. We agreed that the film was wonderfully executed. We discussed how effective it was in delivering its tragic message of inevitability. We also agreed that we would probably never watch it again. I was screwed. I owned it. I still own it. Seven years later and it sits on my shelf glaring at me. I haven’t seen it since. My friend Dave wanted to watch it. I lent it to him. It messed him up. I believe he cursed my name. He hasn’t seen it since.

This can't save you.

This is not a date movie. This is not something you invite your friends over to see while sharing a gargantuan tub of popcorn. These movies are ferocious. Some don’t even have ratings. They don’t turn the camera to avoid showing the ugly parts. They don’t hide behind visual metaphors. They dive head on into the darkest regions of humanity and explore the unrelenting shadows with the lights on. While this validates their creation and subsequent appreciation, they should not be viewed by everyone. There are films that shock for shocking’s sake. After viewing so many movies, it becomes easier to spot the difference. The ones that linger are the ones that tell the wicked truth. Keep your eyes open. The world is a beautiful place but the natives… can be very dangerous.

Have a lovely day.

EPILOGUE:

The story should have ended there. But alas, Danny is a twisted bastard. You see… the only part of the movie I didn’t quite get was the introduction with the old man. Danny explained that Irreversible was essentially a sequel. Not an actual continuation but a story set in the same universe as another film. He read that, in the previous film, the old man was the protagonist. All I kept thinking was “There’s another one?!” It was called I Stand Alone and it definitely took place in the same world as its successor. It was brutal; maybe not as much as Irreversible, but brutal enough. Danny felt it would make a lovely Christmas gift. He just thought it would be cool if I had the complete collection. Bless him. He hadn’t even seen it but was thoughtful enough to let me watch it first.

Just the other day he informed me that Gaspar Noé, the director responsible for kicking our souls in the groin, would soon be releasing his latest movie, Enter the Void, on DVD. I did a little poking around and apparently it is very uncomfortable to watch. And yes… it is to be seen as a sequel to Irreversible thereby completing his trilogy of doom.

Oh crap… I’ll probably get it for my birthday.