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Take it from the effervescently crass mouth of Amy Schumer, "The title was always Trainwreck. Trainwreck or Cum Dumpster." Oh Amy, you are such just so...you. From talk radio appearances to gross-out Twitter posts, the Schum has crafted her image on being unapologetically, oh-so-adorably crude and in the context of Trainwreck, it's miraculous to take in. At last night's premiere, when an audience member inundated her with compliments, she barked, "Stop trying to fuck me." She has swiftly become the epitome of 21st century feminism-as-middle finger; the crème de la crème of vagina jokes and reverse slut shaming that will melt the lipstick off housewives and zap the calories off your finger sandwiches with her gloriously nasty one-liners and hysterically sexual non-sequiturs.
Read more: SXSW Review: Trainwreck
At the bedside of crisped brother Owen Shaw (Luke Evans), older, meaner Deckard (Jason Statham) vows revenge on the crew that turned his sibling into a pin cushion. The camera pulls back to reveal a high security hospital-turned-war zone and Statham slowly saunters past gunned-down guards, ravaged rooms and fizzling tech. The world pisses itself in the presence of Deckard - your appropriately chewy badass action movie baddie at the center of the latest Fast film. It's a rightfully outrageous moment that aptly sums up Furious 7 in its complete and stupid glory; it's so dumb, it's so good.
Read more: SXSW Review: Furious 7
Idiosyncratic Sweaty Betty is a documentary-cum-nonfiction of odd variety. Consisting of six scenes and six cuts and using a cast composed entirely of non-actors, it represents a new-age, inner city twist on the undiluted realism of Richard Linklater or Curtis Snow's disconcertingly realistic Snow on Tha Bluff. Tactically less intellectual than Linklater and yet more restrained and tender than Snow, Sweaty Betty shows the 21st century promise of plopping a camera in a foreign landscape to eye-opening effect, even if said landscape is on American soil.
Read more: SXSW Review: Sweaty Betty
Director, screenwriter and star Ross Partridge unearths a ripe splintering of soul in the fragile, complex love story that is Lamb. Adapted from Bonnie Nadzam's sage but harrowing novel of redemption and temptation, Patridge repurposes the byzantine dynamic of Nadzam's words to co-exist in the cinematic crossroads of nail-ruining suspense and earnest, didactic sentiments of humanity, all the while subtly wedging in thematic elements of Vladimir Nabokov's will-they-or-won't-they statutory misgivings.
Read more: SXSW Review: Lamb
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