He kept churning out crap until he came to "Son of Sam". Let's start with the choice of Yogi Joshi to play David Berkowitz. Brilliant choice, Uli! Of course! When I think of Berkowitz, I automatically think of an Arab. In fact, every time I order a kebab, I wonder if Berkowitz is behind the counter cooking! Honestly, the only similarity I see between Joshi and Berkowitz is that they both have... eyes?
The performances in this movie... Oh my God! I've seen chunks of wood with more emotional range. The last time I saw such stellar performances was when my 4-year-old niece put on her shadow puppet show in the living room.
And speaking of the satanic ritual scenes, did anyone else feel like they were watching a failed attempt at a neighborhood Halloween party? It looks like the result of what happens when you give a group of hyperactive kids a can of cola and leave them alone with carnival costumes.
The "narrative", if you can even call it that, is a jumble of poorly stitched-together scenes, as if Lommel had decided to put all his ideas into a blender, hit the button, and say: "Done, this looks like cinema!"
The real mystery here isn't "Son of Sam", but how someone could hand Lommel a camera and say, "Yes, go ahead, make another movie." It's the kind of movie that makes you want to ask someone to rip out your eyes so you don't have to see something like that ever again.
In short, if you're looking for a way to torture yourself or maybe want a new method to keep unwanted guests out of your house, "Son of Sam" is the movie for you!
The performances in this movie... Oh my God! I've seen chunks of wood with more emotional range. The last time I saw such stellar performances was when my 4-year-old niece put on her shadow puppet show in the living room.
And speaking of the satanic ritual scenes, did anyone else feel like they were watching a failed attempt at a neighborhood Halloween party? It looks like the result of what happens when you give a group of hyperactive kids a can of cola and leave them alone with carnival costumes.
The "narrative", if you can even call it that, is a jumble of poorly stitched-together scenes, as if Lommel had decided to put all his ideas into a blender, hit the button, and say: "Done, this looks like cinema!"
The real mystery here isn't "Son of Sam", but how someone could hand Lommel a camera and say, "Yes, go ahead, make another movie." It's the kind of movie that makes you want to ask someone to rip out your eyes so you don't have to see something like that ever again.
In short, if you're looking for a way to torture yourself or maybe want a new method to keep unwanted guests out of your house, "Son of Sam" is the movie for you!