For the
sake of not having to write the same intro a million
different ways throughout the rest of time, just know that
this column avoids the overly long and sometimes dull
process of full film reviews and instead opts to break
things down based on what I thought going in, what happened
while I was there and what I learned at the end of it all.
Thanks for reading!
The
Breakdown - The Oregonian
The Impression:
Calvin Lee Reeder has a reputation for short, ridiculously
low budget films full of truly strange images and not much
else. I’m usually a stickler for narrative before style, but
I’ll give a director as strange sounding as this a chance
anytime.
The Reality:
Reeder’s The Oregonian looks, for the most part, like
a truly terrible short film I made in college about the
cycle of life. I knew what I to expect when flipping the
go-button on a Calvin Lee Reeder film, and The Oregonian
delivered on all expectations. A narrative thread barely
winds its way through the film - a girl, some murders, a
cavalcade of bizarre images - but it is quite obvious that
Reeder isn’t attempting to make a narrative film. Instead
Calvin Lee Reeder is trying, and succeeding, in making an
hour and a half of seedy mind-fuck. Eschewing a typical
'soundtrack' Reeder overdubs his images with a wash of sonic
grunge, an ear-stabbing collection of burst levels and
electronic squawks that brought my neck hair on many
occasions to a full salute. Coupled with Reeder’s ability to
take VHS quality film and craft teeth-grating images, and
you’ve got a lo-fi production that succeeds brilliantly in
creating a mood. Special notes go out to Lindsay Pulsipher
who manages to stand above the madness and imbue her
character with an admirable amount of panic.
The Lesson:
I love film and all the strange places it can take me to.
- Noah Sanders
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