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Dredd, the bloody pig

Death, right, anyone leaving that film not thinking about our mortality should probably avoid thinking for good. It’s a difficult idea to side step, the credits roll and immediately I’m there again, that old paranoid warhorse, imagining all the terrible shit that could possibly happen. The film reflects on the process of dying in 3D and slow motion simultaneously and not in a hack, reheated Matrix way, a refreshing fuck slap mirroring of what getting shot looks like. To be honest, it looks fucking unpleasant, kind of like watching that Gibson film when they beat up that uppity Yid for blasphemy.

The weird thing about gore films is that somewhere between the first ooooh moment and the last homicide, the fascination shifts to a morbid exponentially increasing thrill ride. You see a head pop in the first twenty minutes and know it a mere entrée, exponential chaos is inevitable in films like these because the accepted idea is that it’s the only thing the genre has for it, momentum, crescendo, climax. A massively twisted blood fuck fest of a finale is what kept me on the edge of my seat and we can both agree it didn’t disappoint.


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September 29, 2012 Early Tilt