If you get a chance to see this projected on a sheet in an unheated high school gym with hard chairs and flat Pepsi, DON'T MISS IT. You can get a VHS copy--DO IT. (Unfortunately, there's no DVD ... YET, right, New Yorker Films?) I walked into an art house theatre in Nashville, Tennessee, no reviews, no word of mouth, just this poster of a woman wearing a red dress, her arms wrapped around the barrel of a tank's cannon. I came out one second (or was it two and half hours?) later a different person. People and movies are imperfect things--this one is messy, joyous, horrific, ecstatic, beat, danceable, romantic, provocative, drunk--this movie tastes like Slivovitz and sounds like Heaven's carnival. And there's a monkey. Once there was a country ...
Review of Underground
