“You really have to be quick crossing the street, or they’ll totally run you down,” a friend of mine laughed. “I’m actually really scared that someday they’ll catch me not paying attention.” He was right– even after dark last night, garbage trucks were still rumbling down Thames Street periodically, past his apartment and toward the Brooklyn Waste Transfer Facility, which neighbors are saying is a particularly devious garbage deposit. I was on my way to a community meeting that brought together activists, workers, residents, and local business owners– all of them concerned about waste inequity– inside La Luz, a storefront and pop-up venue space.
To get to the meeting, I had to cross directly in front of the garbage processing warehouse where, per usual, the massive doors were wide open (which activists and residents say is the case several times an hour), revealing voluminous mounds of stinky refuse. I picked up the pace, realizing suddenly that I was in the crosshairs of an enormous white trash truck and a frantic bulldozer– I felt the distinct possibility that I could be mistaken for a passing ant. Had it been summer, my friend assured me, this experience would have been a more nauseating one.
Gus is a scuzzy dude with long stringy hair and a heroin problem– he resembles Jay Reatard in all the wrong ways and none of the right ones. At first it looks like he’s just another one of those trust-fund kids living in New York City with a seemingly endless opium supply chain and a cool old car, but turns out the Rolls Royce is stolen. A babe-ish tattoo artist finds this out the hard way. I mean, seriously, who ever responds to a guy yelling at you to “hop in” the car by actually hopping in the car? And why is she into this guy in the first place? He’s clearly high all the time. These questions, ladies and gentlemen, are exactly what’s regrettably pulling me into this film. Guilty pleasures, somebody’s gotta have em. Also, Iggy Pop has a cameo. Additional screenings daily (with the exception of Sunday Oct. 25th) at 10:50 am at IFC Center.
Let it be known this is your last week to get in anything besides horror films y’all, so listen up. We’ve got an anthropology-themed film fest, a drug-fueled road trip romance, mule-inspired capitalist critique, and ha woops– a horror marathon. Enjoy!