Here are some murders from the film. The lack of lighting during the night scenes is purely for atmospheric effect. Namely, the atmospheric feeling that you're watching people being killed in complete fucking darkness.
While we’re certainly all appreciative of the pilgrim’s efforts in settling this fine country, laying the groundwork for future strip malls from sea to shining sea, one glaring issue has passed without comment for far too long. Namely…why did they have to bullshit the Indians?
If you’re gonna wipe out Tonto and the gang for their land and resources, fine. However, when Captain Tomahawk wants to celebrate a kindling friendship with a big ass turkey, at least show him a modicum of respect and tell him to go fuck himself, letting him know that the teepee bulldozing will commence shortly. Don’t put on a fake smile and feign a friendship just so you can snag some biscuits and what have you.
Thanks to these disingenuous forefathers, once a year, I have to sit around all day surrounded by nutball relatives, trying desperately not to slit my wrists with the top of the cranberry sauce can. Unfortunately, the holiday shows no signs of stopping, even though the original spirit is all but dead. The only unique signifier left for Thanksgiving is the turkey itself, which is hardly a reason to put up with all of the hours of torture and what have you. Hell, it’s three in the morning right now; I can head down to the 24 hour grocery store and grab some microwavable shit. I don’t need a holiday to eat some goddamn turkey.
His attempts to connect with others through music and juggling prove to be ineffective, leaving him to resort to naked honesty when he asks the married chicano if she wants to roll his proverbial tamale. He manages to overcome this suffocating societal formalism; that is, a lady whose hand is legally taken and, therefore, becomes verboten territory. When he finally brings himself to speak his mind, the other woman does not understand the language, and his spirit is thereby crushed by the proverbial fist of irony. Their only communication when she calls him a “estupido bruto”, which I think is spanish for “big dumb asshole”.
Jake finally makes short work of these turkeys (wait a second…hee hee!), cutting both the power and phone lines (even Jason knows that if you’re gonna cut one, you might as well cut both). The most interesting murder is when the mime tries to get Jake to spare his life by playing him some licks. Rather fittingly, Jake just electrocutes him with said guitar (hopefully that’ll teach him to stay out of the music business all together). Left to survive are, unsurprisingly, the only two people who aren’t assholes; final girl Jennifer and little Angel. Jennifer is the functional rock of the movie, dealing with the situation at hand the best she can, and Angel (played by Vinnessa Shaw, who later turned up in one my favorite movies, Eyes Wide Shut) applies more of a zen cutsie approach, looking adorable and saying “I wuv you!” despite all of the imminent horrors of the holiday (not to mention that steroid freak running around killing people).
Notice how they mention her being in a film at 5 years of age, but gloss over the details. I guess the media would like to whitewash the film's existence out of the historical record, but I refuse to play along.
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