Play Misty for Me, Shithead...

I hate music and I hate people who ask me what my favorite music is.  Like I care…and when I say I love opera, the scumbag who asked me what my favorite music is looks at me like I’m some fruitpie.  Hello!  Straight people like opera.  Some straight people LOVE opera.  So, fuck you. Yeah, I know, you have a Maria Callas cd…Eat me, douchebag.

I hate the opening song from Death Game so much, I wish Michael J. Fox sang it.  It’s got to be the lamest piece of shit song that has nothing to do with squat. Someone loved this gem of a ditty, 'cause it appears at the beginning, middle and end of possibly one of the worst movies that ever got made.  It’s so bad they dubbed Seymour Cassell with some suave dude's voice.  Sondra Locke and Colleen Camp keep it real though.  Their voices are pure and so are their performances.  Raw.  Real.  Rent it if you can.  It’s a true story.  Usually true story movies are good, but not this one.  It made me cry.  Sondra and Colleen channel something awesome in this scatological, Seymour-torturing, orgy, lezzy fest co-starring lots of food.  It scared and scarred me.

Some thirty-five, nasty years later, what are we left with?  Seymour Cassell is considered some stupid underdog genius by every Cassavettes-loving turd, while wicked Sondra Locke and Colleen Camp are nowhere to be found.  I wish I was at the pre-production meetings for Death Game.  I bet Locke thought she’d get another oscar nom. for this.  She should have.  But I’m guessing Clint had other ideas for her.  This movie obviously scared him to death. 

Bye-bye La Locke, but thanks for Ratboy...Rock Hard