Self (archive footage)
My Lover the Killer is the former title of the album by Lydia Lunch & Marc Hurtado released in 2016. The music, first languorous then abrasive, accompanies the verbal flow of the transgressive poetess who comes back to an intimate and violently tragic episode of her own life: her love and death story with Johnny O’Kane. With her long-time collaborator, Lydia Lunch, face to face with the camera, transforms this naked scene full of troubled anger into a deep dark confession. Hurtado’s images are saturated, grainy, willingly experimental and clash with those of an archive of furious performances. Just like the one who seeks to avoid taking part in her own prophecy.
Studio Manager
Фильм описывает один день из жизни молодого художника Жана-Мишеля Баския, которому нужно раздобыть денег, чтобы скорее решить жилищный вопрос, пока его не выселили. Он блуждает по центру города с картиной наперевес, желая её продать. По пути он сталкивается со своими друзьями и, наконец, продаёт картину некоей богатой женщине. Остаток дня он забывает о проблеме выселения и транжирит деньги на вечеринках, перемещаясь от клуба к клубу в поисках одной красивой девушки, которую встретил ранее и с которой планирует провести ночь. Ведь, у него ещё есть место для ночлега…
Based on the true story of four Nazi saboteurs who infiltrated the US in 1942 and were quickly caught and executed, this 80-minute ode to America's irresistibly corruptive allure was the only underground feature by writer-director Anders Grafstrom. A Swedish art director who relocated to NYC, he created this grandiose No-Wave, Super-8 color-epic at the age of 23, only to die in a Mexican car accident a few months after completing the film.
A punk savage satire about a kidnapping.
Self
Filmed at CBGB’s, New York City at a Teenage Jesus & The Jerks concert on January 13th, 1978. The film shows the band members’ heads in slow motion over a live concert soundtrack.
Nares mocks up Ancient Rome by shooting in faux-classical sites like Grant's Tomb and Tribeca's American Thread Building, where a decrepit penthouse loft with a peeling-paint dome serves as an echoey stand-in for the imperial palace. The latter location required ingenuity: Posing as potential renters, Nares and associates asked the manager to show them the apartment, then unlocked the windows on the way out; a few hours later, they broke back into the space, full cast and crew in tow, to shoot the necessary scenes.
