Let The Right One In, and may The Comedians of Comedy Deliver Us From Evil.

Over a month ago I saw Let The Right One In, a Swedish film that would've been seen by many more people if the mass populace in America weren't enamored with the schmaltz of Twilight, the stupid one of two 2008 movies involving youngins and vampires. But it's not really a fair comparison. Twilight is schmaltz, and Let the Right One In is actually worth a shit.

I got people interested in seeing this with me by running around all like "Who wants to see the Swedish vampire movie!? Have you heard about the Norwegian nazi-zombie movie [Dead Snow]?!" In retrospect, I wish I advertised it differently, because it stopped a friend of mine who can't take scary movies from seeing it. It's not a scary movie. No moments intended to make you jump. But if you pull out the vampire element it sounds like a stupid movie: alienated kid meets alienated kid and they develop a weird friendship and haven't I seen this crap before? No, you haven't. It's not a vampire movie, but the vampirism defines the uniqueness of it... man, just fucking see this, alright? John Ajvide Lindqvist's script managed to make a bizarre situation subtle and acceptable to logic (somehow). Tomas Alfredson's dark direction caused me to assume it's a scary movie, but really, it set a beautiful mood for a dark film. And god, these kids could fucking act, too, Kåre Hedebrant as Oskar and Lina Leandersson as Eli the not-a-girl. And I saw it too long ago to talk it up well enough, but it killed my face and will yours, too, so see it and read on, folks...

Next, my roommate asked me yesterday, "Are you familiar with Zack Galifianakis?" When I said, "Heard of but not familiar with," he turned to our handy Xbox360 (where we can watch Netflix flims instantly and that is awesome) and put on The Comedians of Comedy, a documentary about four comedians touring the U.S. independently at cheap rock clubs to lower the cost of admission. Our comics are Patton Oswalt, Brian Posehn, Maria Bamford, and Zack Galifianakis. Like a rock and roll documentary, we get all the backstage and tour bus antics, but instead of loads of drugs and boobs, they just make fun of each other all the time and it's really funny. Patton has his "Am I crazy or is the world crazy?" shtick, Posehn his "Can you believe how big a dork I am? 'Cause I can't," thing, Bamford her "I'm definitely crazy but do really good impressions" deal, and the Galifianakis wild card. All made me laugh multiple times, but Galifianakis's playing heart felt piano while saying ludicrous things into a microphone bit killed me every time. That alone is worth watching this movie.

So after my roommate and I laughed for an hour and 45 or so, I said, "Hey, wanna watch the most depressing documentary ever made?" I'm sure he would have said no if he didn't have a laptop in his paws to distract him. Regardless, we watched Deliver Us From Evil, Amy Berg's brilliant documentary about sexual abuse in the Catholic church. My friends who were raised Catholic refuse to watch it, and I can't say I blame them. We meet a free Father Oliver O'Grady, deported to Ireland after serving seven of fourteen years in prison in the U.S. for sexually abusing children as young as 9 months. As one victim's father corrected, it's not pedophilia or touching or molesting - it's rape. Not simply raping children, but raping entire families' trust in the Catholic Church, to which they've devoted their souls as long as they've lived. Heartbreaking could not aptly describe the pain one victim's father communicates to the camera, having allowed Father O'Grady to stay with his family to get away from the parish and stress of being a priest. O'Grady read the Bible and said his morning prayers in the living room hours after raping his hosts' five year old daughter all night long. Seeing O'Grady roam free in Ireland, resultant of the Catholic Church cutting a deal with him to keep his mouth shut about who knew what during his trial, and walk past children on the sidewalk might be the most frightening, infuriating image one could ever see. Berg's documentary used O'Grady as one example - one man, one priest - who conceivably raped hundreds of children, and concisely showed how the conspiracy to hide such things went as high in the church as Pope Benedict XVI, who was granted immunity of prosecution by George W. Bush at the request of the Vatican.

Deliver Us From Evil will make your head hurt for sure. My roommate and I beat the shit outta some Rock Band drums until 1am afterwards, 'cause we had to. I also couldn't watch this sober, dear God no. When something this emotionally devastating presents itself to you, is it better to indulge and learn the full extent of it, or acknowledge its rottenness and accept that it will be unbearable and move on to something else?

Gah. I don't know. In other news, Bill O'Reilly flips out - DANCE REMIX.

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