{"id":4478,"date":"2022-03-31T12:00:00","date_gmt":"2022-03-31T16:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/beyondthelastestate.com\/archive\/?p=4478"},"modified":"2022-03-30T21:28:01","modified_gmt":"2022-03-31T01:28:01","slug":"blood-gore-tits-and-asss","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/beyondthelastestate.com\/archive\/blood-gore-tits-and-asss\/","title":{"rendered":"Blood, Gore, Tits, and Ass: A Review of Ti West\u2019s X\u00a0"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Throughout history, art has always sucked ass. People love to complain about how bad contemporary cinema is, but the truth is, it\u2019s always been shit. The only thing that\u2019s ever\u00a0 been good are exploitation films. Give us blood, give us gore, give us tits, give us ass. Give us a little glimpse of cock, even, to keep us on our toes. Want to know why Hollywood is so bad these days? It\u2019s because there\u2019s no seething underbelly. Where are the sleazebags creating absolutely disgusting, sordid filth for perverts? Look. Think of art like a house. The walls and the roof and the windows are all the inoffensive, boring, middle-of-the-road garbage peddled by major studios, publishing houses, record labels, and museums. Norman Rockwell. <\/span>John Denver<\/span><\/a>. Steven Spielberg. James Patterson.<\/span> All have their place, and all are equally important.<\/span>1<\/sup><\/a><\/span> But without a foundation, no house can stand. Without a solid base, all the rest comes crashing down. What is this foundation made of, when it comes to movies? I\u2019ll say it again, in case you didn\u2019t hear: Blood, gore, tits, and ass.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

This is the thesis of Ti West\u2019s new flick, <\/span>X. <\/span><\/i>The movie\u2019s other thesis is that old people are disgusting. I heartily approve of both theses. I also approve of the ways in which Ti West expounds upon them. In other words, Todd likey. <\/span>X <\/span><\/i>is a love letter to exploitation cinema, an ode to softcore pornos like <\/span>Debbie Does Dallas <\/span><\/i>and independent shockers like <\/span>The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. <\/span><\/i>It\u2019s also a halfway decent exploitation joint in its own right. West\u2019s earlier films (<\/span>The House of the Devil, The Innkeepers<\/span><\/i>) were good but not great. With <\/span>X, <\/span><\/i>he finally takes it to the next level.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

The movie stars Mia Goth as aspiring porn star Maxine Minx. Along with her sleazy boyfriend Wayne (Martin Henderson) and a small film crew, Maxine is in the backwoods of Texas, shooting the film that\u2019s to give Maxine her breakout role. The film-within-a-film is called <\/span>The Farmer\u2019s Daughter, <\/span><\/i>and Wayne is its producer. It\u2019s a thought-provoking, groundbreaking indie about the bonds between fathers and daughters, and the lives of rural laborers in the Deep South. Just kidding. It\u2019s a skin flick. While Wayne and the cast and crew film the sex scenes, audiences are treated to sequence after sequence of titties, moans, and beautiful softcore fucking. Hell yeah. Hope you fellas bought popcorn! As something of a titty connoisseur myself, I\u2019d give Goth\u2019s knockers a 7 out of 10. They\u2019re supple, round, and proportionate to her body. The other actress in the film, Brittany Snow, has a slightly larger pair, still natural-looking, but a bit more to my taste. 8\/10. Myself, I tend to go for double D\u2019s or above. Give me voluptuous or don\u2019t even bother. But the movie is set in the \u201870s. Breast implants were barely even a thing back then. So, I\u2019m grading on a curve. The movie gets props for verisimilitude, if nothing else.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Anyway, once the titties are back in their brassieres, it\u2019s time for the bloodbath to begin, courtesy of the horniest hag since Jack Nicholson locked lips with that rotted old she-devil in Room 237. <\/span>X\u2019<\/span><\/i>s villain<\/span> is named Pearl, and she is, in a word, unfulfilled. You see, her husband, Howard, can\u2019t keep her satisfied on account of his bum ticker. But, as the cast and crew of <\/span>The Farmer\u2019s Daughter<\/span><\/i> will soon learn, women have needs. And if no one fulfills those needs, well. Hell hath no fury like a battleax scorned.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

The ensuing carnage is a delight to the senses. Discerning sleaze hounds will find much to admire. There are crocodiles, pitchforks, and shotguns. There are homages to classic horror flicks, and exciting stylistic innovations unique to West and his disturbed vision. Though many of West\u2019s references hearken back to the grim nihilism of Kubrick and Tobe Hoober, there\u2019s also a strain of sick, demented comedy in the film reminiscent of Sam Raimi\u2019s early films.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

The movie\u2019s actresses all get plum roles. Brittany Snow, whom female viewers will know from the <\/span>Pitch Perfect<\/span><\/i> franchise, gets laughs as the dim bulb, dick-obsessed co-star of the film-within-a-film.<\/span> Jenna Ortega, plucky star of this year\u2019s lackluster <\/span>Scream<\/span><\/i> \u201crequel,\u201d gets to show her chickenshit side as a character most frequently referred to as Church Mouse. But it\u2019s Mia Goth who really makes the movie. With her smear of sky blue eye shadow and her luminous, otherworldly presence, Goth makes the coke-sniffing Maxine\u00a0 a near-demonic whirlwind of an antihero. Goth also plays Pearl, the murderous old hag. Even working beneath pounds of makeup, she manages to make the character creepy and distinctive. It may be stunt casting, but it works, helping to make <\/span>X <\/span><\/i>one of the better horror flicks this side of 2018\u2019s <\/span>Mandy.\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

If there\u2019s an issue with the movie, it\u2019s that there\u2019s almost <\/span>too <\/span><\/i>much argument. We want to be entertained, not lectured at. Even if the subject of the lecture is interesting, it\u2019s still a lecture, and lectures are for nerds. Sure, it\u2019s fun to see the dueling impulses of the artist-as-savior-and-provacateur embodied in the characters, and sure, it may be true that the elderly are sick, disturbed, horny, murderous creeps. But West could show us these things without spelling them out quite so literally, without having his characters voice the arguments and questions he wants his audience to ponder. His reliance on Themes-with-a-capital-T belies a certain reticence about his own talent. He need not play so coy. His talent is prodigious. At its heart, <\/span>X <\/span><\/i>is a gore and titty delivery system, and an efficient one at that. Next time, West should ditch the discourse and follow his nasty little heart.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n


Postscript<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Look, I know what <\/span>people<\/span><\/a> are saying. But frankly, the accusations against me are absurd. Anyone who knows me, knows that I abhor <\/span>murder<\/span><\/a>, and violence of all kinds. Plus, I\u2019ve never worn a Santa Claus mask in all my life. By the way, who\u2019s this old codger in the home theatre? Looks like he\u2019s been asleep for days. He\u2019s got some kind of machine hooked up to his eyes taking measurements, and there\u2019s an IV in his arm. Every so often during the movie, he\u2019d sort of flutter his eyes a little, let out a snore, and go, <\/span>\u201cAhoy!\u201d<\/span><\/a> Does he have a nurse or something?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Also, there\u2019s a place on this form that asks for endorphins? I don\u2019t know what that means, so I\u2019m just going to go ahead and give this thing a star rating, in honor of <\/span>my hero<\/span><\/a>, Roger Ebert.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n



<\/p>\n

\u2605 \u2605 \u2605 \u2606<\/span><\/p>\n



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