Pierce Hammerstein.
The Dark Knights been toppled, the warring comedies are winding down and grab bag yard sale leftovers are about to his theaters to kill time till the late year Oscar bids start popping up. If you want to do yourself a massive favor, skip trying to enjoy Death Race on an ironic level, stay home and check out this little gem I just came across.
Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia(1974) If Wes Anderson had art directed a script that was written by Quentin Tarentino and was helmed by say The Coen Brothers you'd have something that might vaguely resemble this messy, bleak-oddly poetic- and grandiosly arcane film.
In short, A Lounge pianist must hunt down and claim the bounty of a wanted man who-as it happens-is already dead. The concept alone deserves some sort of reward.
The film reeks of Spaggetti western , b flick glory, yet in inexplicably reaches for a more lyrical tone in the midst of severed heads, bounty hunters fully automatics and swinging machetes. It's a film that even reaching 40 still blows away any faux grindhouse film Rodriguez could attempt to conceave. I'm sure hell announce hes remaking it sometime soon though.Anyways, the ending might be jarring, even bleak but it aint about the destination, its about the gruesome blood stained drug addled journey.
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