Harmony Korine comes across as a creepy, perverse manchild and it's no surprise his films are equally bizarre. His latest is Mister Lonely, which about a Michael Jackson impersonator who lives in Paris who doesn't speak the language. He meets a Marylin Monrow impersonator who has him come to a commune in Scotland where only impersonators live. There's also some bit about nuns who jump out of planes without parachutes to test their faith. Lynch fans may like this stuff, but if you don't like the smell of art house theaters, the stink of this film won't appeal to you. I just thought I'd put it up after a particularly rambling recounting on the radio this morning by the filmmaker about traveling with a Panamanian fishing cult who were looking for a magic fish and hanging out in gay bars in the jungle. Yeah, I don't even need to mention the invisible dog leash, do I?
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