Set in and around a half-built rubble-strewn suburb of nowhere Vienna, pounded by summer sunstroke, and featuring brutal scenes of rape and battery, Dog Days is a bracing blast of arthouse nihilism from Austrian auteur Ulrich Seidl. And like a bleak psychotropic Short Cuts, the success of this multi-character piece depends on how the viewer responds to Seidl's remarkable yet savagely pessimistic world view.
Sandra Bullock got little credit for branching out as a gum-chewing, neurotic hardcase in this clever Barbet Schroeder cop thriller. Two Dostoyevsky students commit the perfect murder as an intellectual challenge; it's up to boozy Bullock and sidekick Ben Chaplin to rattle their smugness. Schroeder ensures it has a dark heart.
Oliver Stone's typically overwrought biopic of Jim Morrison has been much-mocked down the years, perhaps unfairly. It's full of Stone's signature bombast and is characteristically laden with all manner of wild and windy symbolism, but it has rather more going for it than popular reputation usually allows—not least, a surprisingly good performance from Val Kilmer as The Lizard King himself, fantastic duplication of vintage concert footage, especially the re-staging of the infamous Miami bust, and the patently deranged Crispin Glover as Andy Warhol to fucking boot!
Both Jim Krewson and Jennie Benford were raised in tradition-steeped communities (in Pennsylvania and Vermont respectively), rebelling into punk before reconnecting with roots years later. Their third album smudges the boundaries of bluegrass and old-time (fixin' a party between Scruggs-style, three-finger banjo and orthodox clawhammer) to strike a picture of high'n' lonesome authenticity. Aided by the Pinetops' propulsively rhythmic playing, the marriage of Benford's clear mountain preen and Krewson's hickory yelp is life-enhancing.
