1 review
If grotty, Sitar-slathered prurience is your insalubrious thing then Ron Sullivan's profoundly unattractive but perversely satisfying trip into the funk-focused domain of way out, heroically cackling hippies and their groovily emancipated, far from emaciated VW beetle-bound chicks and their naughty boy's rustically home-made, funky-looking pleasure contraptions might just be your ticket to ride!!!
Aptly named, 'The Bizarre Ones' is a consistently crude, ill natured, uproariously absurd, frequently denuded B/W 'roughie' by a wonderfully transgressive filmmaker who laudably dispenses with anything quite so cumbrous as narrative and luridly sets up innumerably static scenes of rope-tied, blind-folded alfresco shenanigans, where prototypical late 60s drugged-out beatniks cavort hedonistically in and about their grotty, bucolic love shack, gleefully satisfying all their myriad rarefied kicks in a singularly strange, almost banal fashion which paradoxically gives this obscure, supremely grainy confection of remarkably pulchritudinous hippie hip-shakers and their clumsy exploits rather more outré charm than it probably deserves.
And I most certainly didn't realize how much I needed to watch an inauspiciously fashioned 'film' that actively promoted the somewhat esoteric, hitherto obscure peccadillo of a mutually satisfying licorice string banquet, a masticatory act celebrated in a confounding, matter of fact manner so deliciously skewed that it reduces the more exploratory digressions of Eraser head to nothing more than the asinine B-movie bungling of a precocious art school dilettante!
Aptly named, 'The Bizarre Ones' is a consistently crude, ill natured, uproariously absurd, frequently denuded B/W 'roughie' by a wonderfully transgressive filmmaker who laudably dispenses with anything quite so cumbrous as narrative and luridly sets up innumerably static scenes of rope-tied, blind-folded alfresco shenanigans, where prototypical late 60s drugged-out beatniks cavort hedonistically in and about their grotty, bucolic love shack, gleefully satisfying all their myriad rarefied kicks in a singularly strange, almost banal fashion which paradoxically gives this obscure, supremely grainy confection of remarkably pulchritudinous hippie hip-shakers and their clumsy exploits rather more outré charm than it probably deserves.
And I most certainly didn't realize how much I needed to watch an inauspiciously fashioned 'film' that actively promoted the somewhat esoteric, hitherto obscure peccadillo of a mutually satisfying licorice string banquet, a masticatory act celebrated in a confounding, matter of fact manner so deliciously skewed that it reduces the more exploratory digressions of Eraser head to nothing more than the asinine B-movie bungling of a precocious art school dilettante!
- Weirdling_Wolf
- Mar 22, 2021
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