Micro-budget movies come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, but the undisputed champions of the form are almost always those which avoid splashy effects, embracing their shoestring aesthetic, and all the wild creative freedom that comes with it. The more gonzo the better, and it’s safe to say that David Buchanan’s Laguna Ave mostly gets it right, borrowing from the best of the best in weaving together a slowly unraveling LA neo-noir with the sort of splashy campiness of John Waters, crossed with echos of mad-eyed genre greats from Tetsuo to Troma.
Russell Steinberg’s washed-up one-handed drummer is the sort of witty stoner that seemed to make up a hefty majority of American movie leads in the 1990s; furiously trying to make rent without a stable job, with his relationship hanging by a thread and quiet oblivion not far out of reach. In fact, the whole...
Russell Steinberg’s washed-up one-handed drummer is the sort of witty stoner that seemed to make up a hefty majority of American movie leads in the 1990s; furiously trying to make rent without a stable job, with his relationship hanging by a thread and quiet oblivion not far out of reach. In fact, the whole...
- 8/27/2021
- by Ben Robins
- HeyUGuys.co.uk
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