Four Rooms

Regular Tarantino crap, even though he only directed a fourth of this. His lousiness infects other directors.

This is an anthology, all set in the same hotel. Each room is a story, but the bellhop is the same in all of them.

Primo, Wiccans try to resurrect an ancestor trapped in stone after being dumped by her lover-boy. Some of them are naked, depending on their cachet (the more money they got, the more they wear). The missing ingredient in their concoction is human semen, which the bellhop provides against his will. He enjoyed it, so it’s not really rape. If this was high-school production it would be laughable, but it stars Madonna and Valeria Golino.

Secundo, the most shallow parody of private dick noir film ever, capable of suckiness equalling Scary Movie or some dross like that. Mostly, the guy is dressed with those sock garters like this. I really don’t know what the hell was going on here, so let’s skip ahead.

Tertio, some sort of Addams family thing, with kids doing wacky stuff. Barely raises above amateurish, even with Antonio Banderas playing a parody of himself.

Quarto and finally, Tarantino sucks his own cock (Bannon-style!) with his friends in the room while boasting to the audience he can throw expensive champagne around. The plot is ripped of from an old obscure existing work, but since the characters refer to said rip-off in a fourth-wall breaking manner, it gets written off as “Tarantinesque”. After writing this, I realize this could describe most of his films, but here it is particularly evident.

This is a case where all the parts are shit but the whole is even shittier. A perfect gift for your enemies.


This is my place for ramblings about sequences of images that exploit the human visual limitation know as persistence of vision.

Ephemera of Vision