The Shoat Statements

Random musings by the multiple voices inside my head.



At 28, I'm used to watching sexually explicit movies in the presence of either of my (moderately conservative) parents. Nudity, a few moans and grunts here & there is absolutely ok.


However, I didn't expect any of that when I rented a Spike Lee movie, and that too a horror movie. I had heard of the Son of Sam, and when I saw the DVD (image) at my local video store on this serial killer, I knew I had to watch it. Then I saw that it was by Spike Lee, and my anticipation knew no limits. Sure, there was a 'R' rating, but I naturally assumed that it was for the blood & gore involved. Alas, my naivete!


I sat down to watch this, and it didn't take 5 minutes for my mother to join me, another fan of the horror genre. Maybe when we were greeted with a rather graphic sexual scene within the first 15 minutes, I should've seen the signs. The movie became progressively embarrassing to watch, especially with anyone over 45. The horror/murder aspect was so sketchy and so brief that you wouldn't know you were watching a horror movie. Instead, we were treated to sexual encounters of all types and sizes, and as graphically as possible.


It's one thing to watch two people having sex. It's something else completely to watch multiple women, a handful of men and people whose gender was in doubt, get it on. Over and over and over again. To give you some idea, there are a total of 12 explicit, graphical sexual scenes, together with all the relevant sound effects. Mind you, this is including an orgy with no less than 7 people. This not even counting the many sexual innuendos, and minor encounters.


By this time I was skipping chapters at random, hoping for either the end credits or a severed head, but the former came way too late (no pun intended), and the latter not at all. Why did I continue watching - well, I really didn't want my mother to think I knew what this crap was about before I rented it, so I figured that I should see it to it's end.

Aside from the porn fest, the movie completely fails to connect with you, and through it's entirety, I failed to see a single valid point. Why is crap like this touted as artsy films, given fabulous ratings by critics, and left on counters to assault our senses at whim? What is the difference between 'Summer of Sam' and your regular porn flick? Both are equally mind numbing, and both are various sexual encounters interspersed with dialogue.

The only answer I can come up with is that any sex-fest, if it's made by a person famous enough, can escape the porn tag and become an art film. Nothing else can explain this movie.

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Be true to your heart, and true to your conscience.

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