Word: nether
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That seedier side is the subject of Skip Tracer, a new Canadian film from the nether reaches of British Columbia. A skip tracer is a fellow who tracks down anyone who has skipped out on a debt. He's the smiling guy in the three-piece suit nailing a For Sale sign on your house, repossessing your car, walking out with all your living room furniture. It's all legal--after all these things are no longer yours--but it's a nasty business, and the people who do it for a living are nastier still--picture...
...movie, therefore, is not just an innocent and harmless depiction of Billy Hayes' transformation "into an Everyman-type hero coping with the erosion of his identity in a nether world of sadism, greed, and madness." As abstract as Mr. Contrer as makes it sound, this world is one where "sadism, greed, and madness" are clearly portrayed as the intrinsic characteristics of a country and its people. "Midnight Express" may be a compelling story of personal struggle, but this comes at the expense of dehumanizing an entire nation...
...ordinary man's struggle to endure and ultimately prevail which are at once unspeakable in their brutality and incomprehensible in their mindlessness. In the hands of Parker and screenwriter Oliver Stone, Billy Hayes is transformed into an Everyman-type hero coping with the erosion of his identity in a nether world of sadism, greed and madness. No emotion goes unexplored, no pain is spared, and in the end, no victory is denied. Therein lies the genius of Midnight Express, a Film so devastating in its momentary power yet so delicate in its final beauty...
Raised conventionally enough in Brooklyn and Long Island, Reed endured the usual humiliations of adolescence (recalled in a lovely, almost sentimental song called Coney Island Baby) before setting out for Syracuse. After that came a flight into the nether regions of the New York pop life. He soon settled down with Warhol's crew of dilettantes and debauchees, a sojourn both memorialized and satirized in Reed's best-known song, Walk on the Wild Side, a barbed anthem to café society transvestites and chic street hustlers...
...lapsed into the reflective, philosophical part of the column, which is optional, but recommended, reading.) the tweeting birdies, the busy bees, the balmy air, the warm zephyrs that breeze through the Crimson shop and blow my columns to pieces, casting my sentient and often hilarious lines away into the nether. But, no more will balmy bursts of breeze blast these words off galley sheets and leave you, dear reader, baffled. I have placed on reserve at Lamont and Hilles libraries all previously blown away lines, and will continue...