Less an ode to movie palaces than it is to the people who used to occupy them. Even then, who owns that memory? Those of us who view it through treacly sentimentality, or those who were there but can barely remember at all? Something so devastating about viewing a past that experienced itself through a shared collective pop culture slowly erode into where we are now, where everything is finite and brittle. Not as good as Bacurau, what is, but man, I loved this.

I think this is SPOILER territory but the scene with Udo Kier is one of the most fucked up depictions of assimilation I think I’ve ever seen. Just braying donkeys of hate lapping up a lie. Unreal.