OH WOW it's Real!

Light has shined on the art house scene in South Florida! Miami has really and truly been a wasteland for foreign and independent cinema for quite some time now. Not since the glory days of Lion Video, New Concept Video and the random art house theaters on the beach of yesteryear have I seen anything worth frothing at the mouth for. The excitement of seeing something new and exciting has officially left the building. I have heard great things of Miami Beach's Cinematheque, but unfortunately I have not heard of anything playing there to really make me want to jump out of my seat. Cinema Paradiso in Ft. Lauderdale is a great venue with a great eye for film, but it's just not Miami. So for a while now I have shaken my fists and ranted my hater rants about the lack of great cinema in Miami but all that has changed as of last week. Filling the void in the halls of celluloid relevancy, the OH-WOW Gallery has chosen to open its doors, kick back, slip on some chancletas and sit back while you invade their house, drink their free beer and eat their free popcorn. Amazingly, someone in Miami is showing you a great movie at no charge and feeding you booze...and they don't want to sleep with you, well they do, but not like that.
 

I have been to art shows at OH-WOW (including the amazing Scott Campbell show) and had heard about secret ambitious rumblings at the gallery, but this leap of good faith made me call up my good bud Luke for an outing. We arrived, got some beers, plopped our asses down, and escaped. What I'm talking about is the OH-WOW Gallery's movie screening series, which rocks. For the month of July, they will be screening art related documentaries at no charge, and their selection is not too shabby. I missed the first one (a screening of "The Cool School") but made it a point to check out their second screening last Thursday, which was a beautiful gem ."Captured" is a film about Clayton Patterson, a man that has photographed, lived, breathed, ate and shat the Lower East Side since 1979. The movie itself was an absolute testament to what was and always will be the blood and balls of what we know of the L.E.S., which is to always represent the lowest common denominator. For decades, the Lower East Side was a haven for the dirty, grimy, scary and the always interesting. Clayton Patterson made it his home, and one day decided to photograph it. Over, and over, and over. This eccentric photographer's eye scanned over the decades that defined this neighborhood magnifying it to reveal that and so much more. A true reflection of a scene that was really not a "scene" as defined by todays social cliques, but rather a refuge for the junkies, the homeless and the revolutionary minds of the eighties, this film penetrates. It puts the ugly scars, the bloody track marks and the dirty fingernails of Manhattan on display, but also puts the heart and soul of a city on a pedestal. Whether you've lived in New York or not, the Lower East Side matters. If the Statue of Liberty had a middle finger, it would be the L.E.S. From junkies to drag queens, Bad Brains and the Thompson Square Park Riots, Clayton was there, with his fucking camera, getting arrested (and selling his baseball caps) and in the muthafucking potaje of things.

All in all,a great film and a great place to see it at, I hope the OH-WOW gallery makes it a habit to do cool things like this more often (and I did hear of some very cool plans for future screenings, but I'm not going to ruin their surprise). The way it went down was like this; I knew (A) a good movie was playing (Captured), I knew (B) I hadn't hung out with my homeboy Luke in a while, and (C) I knew the cost was ZERO, so (D) I knew that shit would be dope...and I was muthafuckin' RIGHT!!! Check out "Captured" ASAP and do yourself a favor and go catch a flick at OH-WOW, you will not hate me, you will high five me and buy me beers.

OH-WOW is located at:

3100 NW 7 Avenue
Miami, Florida, 33127
305-633-9345


EARLY WARNING: Begin sharpening your claws now for the crudefest that will be: Neckface's first Miami solo show ever...at OH-WOW...on Halloween night, 2009. start. drooling.

Snuff (not the chewing tobacco kind)

Yikes, this is a rough one, so let me start by telling you that this review is totally different from my other posts on here due to the fact that nothing funny will probably come out of this one (assuming that you've at least chuckled while reading my other posts). Snuff (2008) was a pretty unsettling and interesting look at the myth of the snuff film, an urban legend that has been around for decades. This really was a well thought out documentary, really covering all the areas of the snuff subject and venturing into areas that really raise questions about the dark corners of the human psyche.


  For those unaware, a snuff film is a film where a murder is captured on film, usually involving violent torture and sexual acts. In addition to some pretty disturbing footage and a jarring analysis of the twisted thinking that would avtually drive someone to commit such an act, this documentary tries to uncover any evidence that may be out there proving that these films in fact do exist. It's a scary world folks, and in this world, where money can get you basically anything, it would not surprise me if the snuff film is as real as the war in Iraq.


Speaking of war, one of the better strengths of this film were when the filmmaker (Paul von Stoetzel) and the interview subjects put the idea of what exactly is a snuff film under the microscope. The definitions vary from subject to subject, but some pointed out that maybe war coverage, especially the stuff from Vietnam and more recently, the onslaught of videos on the internet from the current war, could be considered snuff. Think about the horrible beheading videos that surfaced some years ago (which unfortunately do make a brief appearance here), those can be considered snuff to some, although the general definition would exclude these videos, because they were not created for profit or with the intent to get someone off, but all that is debatable. What is snuff? Does it exist? Who the hell would be sick enough to actually be involved at any level with this shit? I'm not sure, but this documentary is probably a good start to help you make up your own minds. All in all a decent documentary, considering that the stigma with the subject matter might make it a little difficult to pull off.

NOTE: After watching the clip, I realized that they fucked up on this trailer...that woman talking (with some pretty horrible acting thrown in for good measure) about the whole "enjoy" tape is not in the movie I saw! I watched it on netflix streaming, so maybe it's a deleted scene on the dvd?!I have no idea, so if someone does, please give me a heads up.

Annoyance Marches Onward to the Oscars and Beyond!

So "Man on Wire" took home the award for Best Documentary feature............yawn. As most of you know, I did not like this film. Okay, it had its moments but they were overpowered by the irritating energy that radiated out of the movie's subject,it was almost like a musk, that's how bad it was. The man at the center of this film, Phillipe, was just very very unlikeable to me. I seem to be alone here, because the rest of the world seems to genuinely enjoy this film. So if I hated the film (the guy really) and it wins an award, I should get a clue, right? I don't think so, I stand my ground on this one, sorry folks. I did find the actual act of crossing the towers of the WTC on a high-wire amazing, but I felt that the flow of the movie was very clunky and awkwardly punctuated by the peppering of weirdly paced bantering by Phillipe. Unfortunately I haven't been able to catch any of the other films nominated, but shit man, honestly, I don't see the greatness in "Man on Wire" and I think anything is better than this guy:

Even on TV for 45 seconds he turns my stomach

That is all, we now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

They'll Pay You To Do What?!?!

I'm convinced that Japan has it ALL figured out, no fucking joke. the proof is in many things including but not limited to; technology, business, tradition, sushi, candy, karate, ninjas, samurais, bonsai trees, the coolest flag, sake, Daniel Larusso, pepper steak, geishas, insane game shows, Takeshi Kitano....and now this. The "this" I speak of is "host" bars.





Prior to watching "The Great Happiness Space: Tale of an Osaka Love Thief", I had only heard of "hostess bars". Hostess bars are places where Japanese men(mostly married business types), go to sit down, have a drink, and enjoy the company of a woman or women, which they are paying for, of course. Don't get it twisted, this is not specifically a strip club or a whorehouse (although sometimes, of course, money can buy you anything), this is a bar where you pay for the drinks of the woman that is sitting with you, you pay for her time in how much you both drink. But what you are essentially doing is paying for company, not sex. Paying for a woman to listen to your problems, your dreams and your nightmares is really not too far removed from a psychologist, only in a sexy, fun, setting. I can see how that can make some kind of sense to a(and this is a generalization here) lonely, mid-life crisis man at the end of his rope, groping for attention from the depths of his wallet...but what about these "host" bars? Can there actually be a place on earth where the tables are turned? Where do you find women who are willing to pay men to hang out with them? Where is this Bizarro universe where a decent (and sometimes excruciatingly cute) woman needs to pay a dude to hang around her? That universe, my friends, is fucking Japan!!



While Jeff is hanging at the crib again, we, along with Mari, are cycling through the options of what to watch for what seems to be yet another one of our impromptu movie nights. Ever since this fucker has come back to town, it seems that we've tried to squeeze in as much movie watchage in before he takes off on tour again, which works out beautifully for us both, since we just can't stop watching movies. After like 2 or 3 suggestions, we go with Jeff's suggestion of "Big Happiness Space". He had seen it before and it did not take much for Mari and I to go "Whaaat?! Hell yeah, let's see that!"...naturally. We were expecting to be entertained, but man we were really sucked into this weird secret world that is the host bar scene. What happens here is something so interesting that once you start watching, you just can't stop, it's like watching animals fuck or people fall, your eyes are laughing but your mind is disgusted...okay maybe not disgusted, but just a little disturbed. The movie centers around a little corner of weird called Rakkyo Cafe, a host bar owned by the top dog in the male (sort of) prostitute game in Osaka: 22 year old Issei. This guy is a damn genius (sorry ladies, but it's true!) Everything about him is catered to what Japanese young women with money want, and apparently what they want is a funny, waif-like emo Barbie doll to spend thousands (I'm not kidding) and thousands (again, this is real money we're talking about)of dollars on...to party with them. with. no. sex. What the fuck?! How does this work?! And to make it even more fucked up, let me tell you that the no sex thing is the host's strategy. These guys will sometimes eventually have sex with these ladies, but once they do, the women rarely come back. So, in order to keep these girls hooked, they string them along and squeeze as much dough out of these girls. Pretty fucked up huh? You have no idea. What's worse is the revealing of the vicious cycle this lifestyle fuels. Watch this and take a shower immediately after.

17 Minutes of Sleeveless T-Shirts/No T-Shirts = Hilarity

In keeping with my heavy metal theme from my last post, I decided to share with you the greatest 17 minutes of film (actually a really old video recording....remember video?) dedicated to the rabid, drunk, stoned, usually shirtless and toothless metal fans of the eighties, and it goes by the name of Heavy Metal Parking Lot. This elusive documentary was the stuff of legend for quite some time. It was shot in 1986, and instantly became this bootleg that people just passed from one set of dirty grubby hands to another, dubbing it first, then passing it on. And on. And on. I learned from imdb.com that it didn't see a proper theatrical release until 1997. That's 11 years after the fact!! How awesome is that!? Not convinced? Well let me feed you some info on this documentary by describing what it is NOT. It is not complex, intellectual, introspective or engaging. What it IS is a document from the dirty bowels of the eighties; it's a twenty minute short doc about the fine ladies and gentlemen that inhabit the parking lot prior to a Judas Priest show in 1986. Period. This genius idea came to two guys (John Heyn & Jeff Krulik) out of nowhere. Heavy Metal was all the rage and Judas Priest was coming to their town...so why the fuck not? How the hell would they know that what they would capture would be pure, golden, molten lava-like scenes of magic? They didn't.

After hearing of this movie for at least 10 years, I finally was able to watch it (it got a pretty fine dvd release in 2006) and man, when I have to resort to a cliche to describe something to you, you know it's fucking good, but I seriously felt like I was in a time machine when I watched this! I was only 10 years old in 1986, but shit do I remember the fabulous fashions and of course, the music. The utterly hilarious and jaw dropping characters paraded before you in Heavy Metal Parking Lot are like the representatives of every slice of metalhead that existed in those days. There's really no way other than to present you with a snippet from one of the most memorable people in the movie, dubbed "Zebraman" by fans of HMPL. 

Behold!

 and make sure you don't rob yourself of these nuggets below.


twenty and....THIRTEEN?! Really?!



Yeah, it's like that. There's a river of greatness in these 17 little minutes, trust me. Mari and I could not stop laughing the whole way through. It's like a whip-it with no end...well actually it does end, so it's like a 17 minute whip-it, you almost devolve while watching it that's how powerful it is. But trust me, you want a full length feature, well, at least I did. It almost makes you want to go back and live it, but with teeth and shampoo. Please please please watch this and let me know what you think. Seriously, it probably took you longer to get through this post than it would've taken to watch Heavy Metal Parking Lot.

"Tron Funkin Blow"

 So yeah, the quote used as the title of this post has absolutely NOTHING to do with Tron, the 1982 neon dripping, ultra futuristic (not really anymore) film we all loved starring Jeff Bridges. Instead it's from one of the funniest scenes in a movie that totally throws you back into the opposite direction of the future, the filthy and sometimes hilarious headbanger past some of us experienced while growing up in the eighties and nineties. I'm talking about mullets, unnecessary acts of stupidity and violence, fire and usually alcohol....lots and lots of alcohol. The film is called Fubar, it's a mockumentary by Michael Dowse about two constantly obliterated and amazingly mulleted Canadian headbangers named Dean and Terry that just look like they were shot out of a cannon filled with Labatt, grease and Camaros, I know that's kind of hard to visualize, but trust me, it's accurate. It's obvious from the start that this is not a real documentary, thanks to the totally unnecessary disclaimer at the beginning of the movie, which makes no kind of sense to me whatsoever. I mean, why put so much effort into making what looks to be a legitimate documentary but then spoil it with a pussy ass disclaimer? It must be legal reasons, I'm sure of it. If someone knows, fill me in, I'm too lazy to research it right now.

There is no complicated storyline here, just hilarity by the kegfull. You follow Dean and Terry around for the entire film, and believe me, it never gets old, no matter how many times you see Dean faceflop into hedges/sidewalks/dirt/whatever, it is fucking funny. The guys basically spend their time doing whatever hockey haired gentlemen wearing nice cutoff shirts would do; get mega wasted, tackle each other, obliterate a bus bench, spray paint, yell vulgar shit at innocent people, litter, talk about the awesome band they will start one day, etc., a typical Saturday night for you and I, but they do it with such pizazz that watching this movie just makes you want to do it every day, not just Saturdays. The best part is that they are "aware" of the camera crew following them around, and the film crew even gets involved...really involved.




I had heard about this movie from my buddy Jeff, so I made it a point to try to get a hold of it by the time he got back into town. As usual, Jeff rarely disappoints on the recommendations and we watched it with a group and we absolutely loved it. I strongly suggest getting shitfaced and watching this with friends; you won't be let down. Make sure you have no snobby pricks in your midst that will dismiss this as a Jackass or CKY ripoff, this movie has very well written characters that are totally believable, if not to you, then you and I are different. And maybe we're different because you're talking to a guy that used to sneak cans of Old Milwaukee with his junior high buddy and draw pentagrams and the number 666 with lighter fluid on the sidewalk before lighting them on fire and shouting with glee through the streets of Hialeah(there's my metalhead past creeping up again), totally giving'r.

Tell us what you really think about Tron!

PS: I've gotten in a lot of movie watchin' this week with Jeff, so stay tuned for a couple more reviews!

Chik Chik Wah, Chik Chik Wah

The title of this post is a feeble attempt at spelling out what the scratch solo of Herbie Hancock's "Rock It" sounds like to me. That song really exploded on the scene back in good ol' 1983, where it blew minds, feet and eventually the turntable business. I remember being extremely weirded out by that video. Let's face it, I was about 6 or 7 at the time and the video was quite the acid trip. I didn't know what an acid trip was, mind you, but fuck, I knew something was not right with that video. Perverted mannequins, a robotic ostrich (?), a bunch of back and forth video editing, a robot hand smacking a mannequin head at the dinner table, just creepy props galore and that sound....that awesome sound.....chikachikachikachikachikachika. The scratch. How cool was that sound?!?! I was just floored when I realized that it wasn't an instrument, but a turntable! Shit was fresh, I thought it was an alien invasion, and apparently I wasn't alone.



Scratch is really one of my favorite music documentaries. I've seen it several times and just recently gave it another spin. I should've paired this with my "Planet B-Boy" post from a couple of weeks ago, but fuck it, I never think ahead and you pay the price by not having two companion documentaries to watch at the same time....I'm sorry and get over it. This is just one of those gems that if you love documentaries you should've definitely already seen or at least heard of it. It's a film from 2001 directed by Doug Pray. The reason I love this movie so much is kind of hard to explain. First of all, it gets me all weepy and nostalgic for the days of spinning on my back and wearing bad clothes. Secondly, the Deejays (or is it djays...djs?) highlighted are really the pioneers in hip-hop, electronic music and beyond, so this film helps to serve as a history lesson on the world of turntablism (as the kids with expensive sneakers like to say). And finally, the soundtrack and archive footage from back in the day let you know that this filmmaker really knew his subject matter. You get plenty of interviews and stories of how this appliance that was meant to entertain your abuelas and abuelos while they sat around has now become a total giant in the music world, competing with guitars and drums as the instrument of choice for the kids of the world. How the fuck did this happen?! People like to shake their asses man, plain and simple. And those people have short attention spans. Plain and simple.

But while people continued to shake their asses, turntablists like QBert and Mixmaster Mike (who replaced DJ Hurricane in the Beastie Boys) were trying to talk to aliens with the only tools they had; you guessed it, record players. I should say that these two guys in particular basically described the art of deejaying as just that; talking to aliens. It's kind of funny when you hear them philosophise on this theory, but what do you expect when your talking to guys who used to be in a group called "The Invisibl Skratch Piklz"?

Then there's DJ Shadow, one of the first artists of this genre that I was ever introduced to and still listen to even now. His segment is one of the most memorable in the film, the camera follows him into his secret world....an old Mom and Pop record store where he has been buying records for years upon years, in fact it's the record store pictured on his first album cover. The thing that might get your dick hard if you're into vinyl and like to collect all kinds of records is when he goes into the basement of this place. It is literally a record collector's wet dream, a place where you can probably spend weeks going through stuff and not even cover a fraction of what's down there. Stacked from floor to ceiling, asthmatics will start to freak out just thinking of the amount of dust in that place, but damn is it an awesome sight. Check out the asthmatic greatness below.



As a whole, this doc really lets you into the secret club of these gifted musicians working with two turntables. It's a refreshing (even now, 8 years later) look into hip hop and beyond, taking the focus off of the flashy emcee, no gangsta rap here, no stupid egos, just a bunch of nerds using technology to continue pushing the boundaries of what has become the biggest youth movements this world has seen in a long time. As you will hear most of the interview subjects say, Grand Mixer DST, the man behind the iconic scratching in Hancock's "Rock it", got it started, but what you hear and see in this movie, is far from the chik chik wah, chik chik wah.



...aaaaannd, if by some fucking horrible unfortunate act of circumstance, you have no idea who Herbie Hancock is or what "Rock It" sounds like, here is the video and song that dropped jaws and panties all over the world:

Wannabe Superheroes and High Wire French Dude

So recently I've been scouring the Netflix for western and documentary titles, and have been bitten by the odd and interesting bug, finding myself adding the stuff that jumps out at me due to kooky content. So my instant queue on my Xbox 360 is backed up for blocks, every time I'm browsing through them, Mari (and myself, I must confess) gets really annoyed because of the sound it makes when you shuffle through titles. It's like a combination of a bubble wrap pop and and underwater fart, and it's loud. So as I'm "pwop pwop pwopping" through the queue, I usually have an inner dialogue with myself, telling myself to "either watch some of this shit or fucking delete it, you're not suppose to collect them like Garbage Pail Kids, you're supposed to watch 'em, moron". So I've kind of started cleaning house when given the chance, and started to watch some of this shit. A couple of days ago I decided to check out two documentaries, one that I had added and the one I had in the mail(yes, I know, I gotta get a western in here soon), they were "Confessions of a Superhero" & "Man on Wire".


First up was "Confessions of a Superhero", directed by Matt Ogens which was pretty entertaining. The concept is to basically tag around with these people that dress up like superheroes and stand around outside places like Mann's Chinese Theater in LA. There's a Superman, a Wonder Woman, an Incredible Hulk and a Batman. On the surface, these folks are basically panhandlers that beg for tips after you take pictures with them. The Superman dude has been at it for a while, and it shows. He basically knows the ropes and kind of is the elder in the film, letting you into the world of Super-Begging and what you can and can't do. It's pretty heartbreaking to watch these people until the Batman dude comes on....the guy's a total douche, getting pissed off and proclaiming "you know, we work for tips!" to tourists as they walk away from him after taking a picture with him. They all ask for tips, but when he does it it's like that homeless guy that asks you for money and you can't tell if he's begging or mugging you. It's like this; buddy, nobody fucking told you to put on a fucking rubber suit and stand under the California sun, you're self employed, taking advantage of the love people have for these characters that you did not create, so fuck off. If you wanna wear a costume and get paid, go work at a theme park. You are standing in front of someone's property, wearing the identity of someone else's creation and feeding on the tourists like a fucking vampire, get a fucking job yo. The guy is rude and downright nasty, which basically kills the vibe of the flick. Everyone else is just a happy go lucky "tryin' to make it in Hollywood" type of actor that just seems to be stuck in this weird world of costumed photo ops, which makes for interesting psychological analysis and movie banter when the interviews start. I don't want to give anything away, but the Superman guy has a really really unhealthy obsession with Christopher Reeves and Superman in general. Definitely check this out, it has it's moments, but don't say I didn't warn you about Batdouche.




Next item up for bid was a documentary directed by James Marsh called "Man on Wire", a movie that for some reason I had high expectations for and I have no idea why. I was pretty happy when i received this in the mail and was pretty damn stoked to see it. This is the retelling of a pretty magnificent feat that happened in 1974; some dude illegally walked across a tightrope he and his friends set up across both of the World Trade Center Towers....did I mention this was done illegally?


Fucking wow right? It's like, "How the fuck?" Super cool I thought, this HAS to be interesting........bullshit. The problem with this doc is not the event or the editing or the blah blah blah, quite simply, the guy that actually did the tightrope thing....was fucking annoying man! His name is Phillipe Petit (even his name sucks) and the biggest mistake the people behind this film made was not waiting until this guy died to make a movie about him. I know it sounds fucked up but jeez, this guy was a fucking rash on my balls. Seriously man, it's cool and all that you snuck up to the top of the WTC and like on some fucking Mission:Impossible meets Barnum & Bailey tip gave the world a sight they'll never forget, but shut up about it a little bit, you know, fucking humbleness and shit. We are forced to swallow some of the most animated and obnoxious anecdotes about this guy...told by the same guy. Don't get me wrong, there are other people talking about it that were there, but nobody kisses this guy's ass like himself. Basically, the footage is cool and the breakdown of the planning and buildup to the actual event is highly interesting, but somebody put a muzzle on this guy. I recommend watching this with the volume turned down and some Edith Piaf blasting through your speakers, it's less annoying, believe it or not, and it's not because he's French, he's just a circus performer. Annoying Dude's face and trailer clip below.

B-Boys, Standin' in Their B-Boy Stances

Alright, so if you've known me for quite some time, you know that I have been known to dance, and if you know that, then you know that I get kinda goofy with my dancing, the drunker I get, the more of a marionette my flailing resembles. I guess the only explanation for that is that I'm a child of the eighties that grew up in Hialeah surrounded by Trans-Ams, checker board, Panama Jack hats, parachute pants and lots of zippers for some reason. My older sister was raised on Led Zeppelin and AC/DC, but fucking shit man, when breakdancing hit, she was a poppin' and lockin' Cuban girl that knew how to throw down like a badass. Naturally, me being the annoying little brother that she needed to take EVERYWHERE she had to go (or else my parents wouldn't let her out of the house), she made the best of it and made me her little breakdancing partner. It was the absolute shit!! I still, to this day get chills when I hear Afrika Bambaataa & Soul Sonic Force's "Planet Rock", remembering those days and nights out with my sis, rockin' the cardboard and just letting loose. Back in those days (I think it was around 1985), kids would hang out at the beach......and I'm not talking South Beach homie, I'm talking Sunny Isles!! Crazy shit. Anyways, my point is that I've always loved breakdancing for as long as I can remember. Sure I moved on to Metal, Grunge, Punk, Hardcore, back to Hip Hop and everything else, but I could never turn my ear away from a good electro or breaks track.....it's in me man, what can I say?

My point? The point is that while totally going nuts on the new Netflix to Xbox 360 setup, I ran into a recent breakdancing doc called "Planet B-Boy" (directed by Benson Lee) that caught my interest. The beauty of anything catching your interest on the new Netflix/Xbox hook up is that if after 10 seconds whatever your streaming is a steaming pile of shit, you can tell it to go take a flying fuck and get rid of it and watch something else.....instantly! This was not the case with "Planet B-Boy"!!



This movie was...........(wait for it)......FRESH! Right away you get sucked into the world of modern day competitive breakdancing and are introduced (at least I was introduced) to "The Battle of the Year", a yearly event in which breakers from all over the world gather in Germany for the top spot of Champions. Sounds corny as shit right? No! The great part about this movie is that it shows how breaking has really carved out a place in the world as more than just a fad, but rather a way of life and how the early hip-hop philosophy of originality and self expression is still alive. The film takes you all around the world and focuses on a handful of crews that have qualified for the tournament and lets you get to know them before they get to the battle. It taps into the social values of each country and gives you insight on why some of these kids need to release the tension from their everyday lives while others just do it for the love. Technique-wise it's pretty typical of an "event documentary" like "Spellbound" or "Murderball", the formula of filming a couple of subjects and their journey, allowing for character development and eventually breaking somone's heart because they lost, but fuck, the crews are INSANE!! There's these crazy Korean dudes that just make Jackie Chan look like what Chriss Angel is to magic (basically the asshole of Kung-Fu is what that translates to)! It's amazing how what started as Black, Hispanic and White kids just getting down in the poorest neighborhoods of New York, has never faded but rather exploded into a way of life for kids as far as Japan, Korea, and France. And these guys get it, they aren't just fucking dancing because it looks cool, they understand where it came from and why it matters. The philosophy of unity and fun is definitely captured, and shit is crazy son!! The director really captured the energy and the global vibe going on......definitely worth a watch. Check out the clips below and tell me Jackie Chan ain't the asshole of Kung Fu!!






Planet B-Boy on IMDB.com