DISEMBODIED - CULT GORE SPLATTER ART FANTASY Science fiction BLU-RAY

Description: Disembodied is a hallucinogenic adventure, and, like acid, you need a certain mental wherewithal to watch it. But it’s well worth trying. Connie Sproutz, a likeable young woman with the sad problem of a spore-generating deformity on her face which causes difficulties in her day-to-day life such as dissolving into a gelatinous mass anyone who is to be devoured by the neural parasite that inhabits her skull, which is empty due to the fact that she stores her brain in a jar beside her bed. A girl checks into the Grand Hotel, which is neither of those things. There’s disintegrating furniture, moth-eaten carpet, broken light bulbs, and a flurry of flies. The bathroom is truly the dirtiest you’ve ever seen, even worse than the one at the bus stop where someone had smeared shit all over the stall door. The bathtub is crusty and black, and the tiles are covered in furry mold that you could use to knit a blanket for someone you hate. You get a horrifying feeling that inside the mildewed walls, there’s a bustling metropolis of cockroaches. You can almost hear their hard candy shells clatter against each other. This place is less of a fleabag motel and more of an open sewer that happens to have rooms. The front desk clerk looks like the undead; he’s pale with dark, sunken eyes. He wears a threadbare shirt with yellowed armpits, and that might be the cleanest thing in the whole joint. He offers Connie a room. Connie is exactly 76% goth. Her black hair hangs over her pasty face and she shuffles around silently. Through a giant hole in her wall, Connie spies on her neighbor, who is entertaining a john. Connie settles into her new home. She unpacks her clothes, organizes her rock collection, and places potions on the table. Then she puts her brain on the table. It’s in a gurgling tank. “God, I need some coffee.” She pours coffee into her brain. She instantly feels chipper. At night, Connie terrorizes people in the neighborhood. She turns them into slime and eats them. Then, as she sleeps, a monstrous, penis-like deformity on her face oozes spores, which look like starfish made out of Play-Doh. Her filthy bathtub is filled with algal blooms and alien organisms that look like severed vaginas. Symbolism is at work here, though it’s unclear what the symbols mean in the context of the film. Disembodied is less about plot and more about the experience. Nothing really happens in this movie and even if it did, it’d be secondary to the mood. This film plunges you into a surreal, haunting world and keeps you there for 85 mesmerizing minutes. It’s dark and dirty, claustrophobic and grotesque, hypnotic and inescapable. This is not a movie with explosive gore or violent twists. This is not a movie with histrionic characters and outrageous dialogue. In fact, there’s hardly any dialogue at all. Or music. This is a film that’s eerily silent and most of what you hear is the sound of your own breath and the occasional low whisper out of Connie’s mouth. The film offers dreamy imagery of erupting volcanoes and toasting marshmallows. We see alien lifeforms that bubble and ooze and crawl across the floor. We see stop-motion animations of a carrot hitting a potato. We also see a rock with an eyeball. There’s a mysterious budding flower, a tap-dancing sequence, potions that move on their own, and a scene where Connie changes out of her drab black garb and puts on a Technicolor dress. It’s unclear what any of it means, but it doesn’t matter. Like an acid trip, it’s best to accept it all without questions and escape into a trance, one where you’re rarely bored even when you literally see a goth fall asleep in a chair. Director William Kersten mixes the gritty darkness of David Cronenberg, the foreboding uneasiness of David Lynch, and the surreal production design of Tim Burton (when he was good). Disembodied is equal parts horror and experimental art, but it never feels pretentious. This is a film that lives in the details. The set, costume, and props perfectly serve a cinematic acid trip, one where very little happens but much is communicated. It’s just never clear what exactly is being communicated. Describing Disembodied is like describing your acid trip to someone; words fail the actual experience. # We have other items on sale so please take a look!

Price: 25 USD

Location: TOKYO

End Time: 2025-02-06T11:29:27.000Z

Shipping Cost: 20 USD