A Forsley Feuilleton: Flavor Flav Is A Classically Trained Pianist, Tom Petty Has A Dirty Fish Tank, and Selena Gomez Is Starring In Harmony Korineâ€™s New Flick[admin / April 5th, 2012 / Young Bright Things ]
Dostoyevsky used to watch his wife shit, G.G. Allin voted for Jimmy Carter, Jerry Garcia tongue-kissed his older sister on her deathbed, Diana Ross hated the movie When Harry Met Sally, Elizabeth Taylor is a beer enthusiast, Kirk Douglas collects Pez dispensers. . . Flavor Flav is a classically trained pianist, Tom Petty has a dirty fish tank, and Selena Gomez is starring in Harmony Korineâ€™s new flick.Â All these rumors, except the last one, were written by Korine in A Crackup At The Race Riots.Â The last one was written about Korine in a Hollywood tabloid.
Hollywood tabloids donâ€™t fact-check, and Korine is liar, a prankster, a rumor-conjurer.Â I doubt G.G. Allin voted for Jimmy Carter, just as I doubt Korine is making a flick starring that shiny prepackaged Disney toy named Gomez.Â Korine is a self-mythologizing spinner of tall-tales and pop-culture hearsay.Â After writing the pubescent-raping, skateboard-beating, AIDS-spreading realities of Kids, and then directing the glue-sniffing, cat-executing, Down Syndrome-pimping antics of Gummo, and the child-murdering, sister-pregnating, schizophrenic-darkness of Julien Donkey-Boy, Korine vanished â€“ with a Groucho Marx t-shirt and a Black Metal soundtrack â€“ into a cloud of his own rumors.Â
He says he spent the following decade working as a lifeguard and a bricklayer â€“ that he studied with a Haitian voodoo tap-dancer in Baton Rouge and joined a cult of fishermen in Peru.Â There was Fight Harm, his collaborative project with David Blaine, who I consider the new Jesus Christ â€“ Christ could walk on the holy water of Israel, but Blaine can levitate off the urineized concrete of New York â€“ but Iâ€™ll write more about our new Savior in a different Forsley Feuilleton.Â In Fight Harm Korine engaged random people in street fights while Blaine watched behind the camera.Â According to the child-sized and malnourished director, it was supposed to be â€œa cross between a Buster Keaton vehicle and a snuff filmâ€. . . but the random people Korine fought were New Yorkers.Â He was hospitalized, and the projected was never completed.
According to legend â€“ the legend of and by Korine â€“ the director also wrote a script, What Makes Pistachio Nuts, during this time about a Trotskyite who lives in a Florida suburb and owns the world’s largest pig, a pig named Pistachio that everyone in town watches run up and down walls with its owner on its back making pro-Trotsky speeches.Â But the script was lost in one of the two house fires Korine endured.Â He probably endured this fire at the peak of a Meth binge while frantically running and pissing around the flames, or maybe at the end of a heroin binge while passed out dreaming about BBQ pork sandwiches.Â Â .Â I can imagine both scenarios, but I canâ€™t image a scenario in which he wrote a script and then spent eleven-thousand dollars to recover this single sentence from his burnt computer: â€œThe speech is pointless; the finger is speechless.â€
It sounds like bullshit â€“ the kind of bullshit a tweaked out delusional bull past his prime would shit out.Â I think these stories, these rumors, are nothing more than symbolic revisions of a decade of drug addiction, rotting teeth, burning houses, homelessness, madness, and Chloe Sevignylessness.Â But when a journalist that wasnâ€™t me â€“ I was busy trying to retrieve my Great Great American Novel manuscript from a UFO flown by Ambrose Bierce â€“ asked Korine if it was all fantasy, he responded: â€œWhatâ€™s the difference?Â Whether you believe me or whether itâ€™s the truth, what does it matter? Everythingâ€™s just a story.Â Itâ€™s all a story.â€
After telling the story of his decade-long hiatus, he told another story, Mister Lonley, in 2007.Â The flick follows two impersonators â€“ one a Michael Jackson and the other a Marilyn Monroe â€“ who join a commune of celebrity impersonators in the Scottish Highlands.Â Because of the over eight million budget and the bureaucracy that came with it, Korine complained that â€œso much energy is put into capitulating. . . it just chops your head off.â€Â So, in reaction, his next film, Trash Humpers, shot on VHS in the style of a home movie, has neither a real plot nor any real dialogue â€“ only a group of old drunkards creeping around Nashville at night humping toilets.
So if the rumors are true and Korineâ€™s new flick is starring the shiny prepackaged Disney toy named Selena Gomez, what is it a reaction to?Â The financial and critical attacks Trash Humpers received?Â I hope not. This Gomez flick is called Spring Breakers and follows a group of college girls gone wild: they rob a restaurant to pay for their vacation, get locked up, and then start doing things for a drug dealer, played by James Franco, named Alien.Â I donâ€™t know what kind of things Gomez will do for the Alien, but I have faith that Korine will direct her to do things sheâ€™s never done before, at least not in any of her past flicks: Wizards of Waverly Place, Princess Protection Program, and Another Cinderella Story.Â Gomez herself said, â€œItâ€™s going to be raw. . .â€
And it better be as raw as Olâ€™ Dirt Dawg.Â If I wanted to see her dancing and singing with clothes on, Iâ€™d bust out my Barney & Friends DVDs.Â But I want to see a sequel to Kids.Â I want Justin Beiber to cry.Â I want to see Korine melt this wholesome Disney toy down and then reform it into a decadent sex toy so Americaâ€™s youth can witness the dark perversions of this countryâ€™s psyche.Â Korine said, â€œI’m the most American director making movies today,â€ and if the rumors are true, he will have the perfect opportunity to prove it.