A couple of weeks ago, I wrote this post, about Damon Packard's Epic of Nausea, Reflections of Evil. And now, Jon's finally gotten around to writing his response, which is interesting because the film left him no where near as distraught as it did me. And he makes a couple really good points about how reviewers who have given the thing positive reviews have really been able to do so only because they were watching the film at home-- and not trapped in a dark room with a bunch of strangers and a high-powered commercial surround-sound sound system.
And also, Jon's experience of the film isn't quite so colored with vomit-anxiety as mine is. Lucky him. I am so'r envious of those who don't freak out over puke-- I really am. I heard that a woman at my new job got a nasty case of the vomits the other day and now I'm a) afraid to touch anything in her office and b) feeling my heart racing every time I go into the bathroom on my floor. Retarded. However, I do not think there is a way to face this fear that would not cause me further trauma. Please, no one make any "immersion therapy" suggestions, yeah? *shudder* I haven't thrown up in 21 years and (I'm knocking HOLES in some wood right now) I intend to keep it that way.
2 comments:
i must say i admire you for being able to sit throught that entire film without getting up and walking out. its probably a good thing the big vomit scene was early and not, say, an hour into the film. Otherwise, i think that may have finally been the breaking point for you. Seriously, a vomit-phobic person going to see reflections of evil in the theatre is like a person who is afraid of heights trying to walk a tightrope between two sky scrapers!
Well, let's not forget the several subsequent sequences with the homeless people puking. I was pretty miserable throughout that screening. In retrospect, I think you owe me. I will devise a proper system of remuneration forthwith.
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