I don’t know about you, but I’m a-tired of these slick-Hollywood types telling me what to like and underestimating me as a citizen of “middle America”. You know? Maybe I do wear plaid and pigtails sometimes and have a sort of sweetly naive outlook full of hope and ignorance, but also, you know, I can recognize a two-hour commercial, and I can tell when “Iowa” in a movie is some New York City screenwriter or a piggly-eyed Executive’s bizzare brain-collage of ’50s era Coca Cola ads and Norman Rockwell paintings, you know?
So, you know, I decided that it would be a mighty fine idea to make public my true feelings as a member of the heartland about what I am exposed to culturally. Yep. So that’s what I’m doing. Feel free to chime in.
I highly doubt that I will change the face of Hollywood as we know it; that these piggly-eyed Executives will crumple to their porky knees in simulaneous laughter and tears upon reading my reviews, have massive movie-style changes of heart and give us each a Christmas goose. But, you know, if that happens then you’re welcome.
I’ll start off with some reviews of films that screened at Iowa City’s own Landlocked Film Festival, which showcased the talents (and a few blunders) of midwestern filmfolk. After that, the sky is my limit! Who knows what I’ll react to? All I can say is, I react to things all the time. Like, at least once a week, you know?
I hope you, my dear reader, will enjoy a little slice of the life of a hayseed and frolick in the richness of culture that surrounds us like an ocean of corn whispering softly like a lover in your ear, “Ehhhhhh…..I actually would see Transformers: The Squeakual“.