The Prescience of Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!
Went to go to see the Washington Psychotronic Film Society's showing of Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! at its original time (Tuesday nights) and new location, the Meeting Place.
The bar is kind of a weird -- it's literally a dive (underground), pretty no-frills. The regulars at the bar were mostly black, contrasted with the mostly-white hipster archetype movie-goers. (Apparently, there's also a goth-y dance party on Saturdays to throw in the mix, too.)
Movie turnout was pretty good, between 30-40 people. The movie was shown on a flat screen in the corner; at times, it was kind of hard to hear, especially with noise from the bar (there's no separation between dining room and bar), though outside a few laugh lines, this isn't really a dialogue kind of movie.
The movie itself is... well, I've seen it before (years ago, at a theater in New York, also with a crowd of urban hipsters). The plot is laughable and serves only as a vehicle for Russ Meyer's visual titillation -- the eye candy started out as pure exploitation, but time has pretty much tempered it down to schlocky camp (with go-go boots, as well as hepcat talk and bad Italian accents). And Tura Satana's karate *CHOPS* to the ribs are more Austin Powers than Austin Powers.
Anyway, here's the laugh line of the night:
The bar is kind of a weird -- it's literally a dive (underground), pretty no-frills. The regulars at the bar were mostly black, contrasted with the mostly-white hipster archetype movie-goers. (Apparently, there's also a goth-y dance party on Saturdays to throw in the mix, too.)
Movie turnout was pretty good, between 30-40 people. The movie was shown on a flat screen in the corner; at times, it was kind of hard to hear, especially with noise from the bar (there's no separation between dining room and bar), though outside a few laugh lines, this isn't really a dialogue kind of movie.
The movie itself is... well, I've seen it before (years ago, at a theater in New York, also with a crowd of urban hipsters). The plot is laughable and serves only as a vehicle for Russ Meyer's visual titillation -- the eye candy started out as pure exploitation, but time has pretty much tempered it down to schlocky camp (with go-go boots, as well as hepcat talk and bad Italian accents). And Tura Satana's karate *CHOPS* to the ribs are more Austin Powers than Austin Powers.
Anyway, here's the laugh line of the night:
"Women! They let 'em vote, smoke and drive - even put 'em in pants! And what happens? A Democrat for president!" - The Old Man
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posted by Joelogon at
11/25/2008
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