Sorry to Bother You
A left-wing film in which workers unionise and achieve their goals, even when scabs cross the picket line. Squint! Squint at the grandeur.
Our man lives with his radical girlfriend on his uncle’s garage. He gets this telemarketing job, but nobody even listens to him, they just hang up. An older fellow mentions he needs to use his white voice. It’s not just about covering his nose, it’s the carefree attitude, zen-like, no worries.
His job is indeed shitty, so when a union is formed and our man strikes, he gets promoted, to break morale internally. And he does cross the picket line, ‘cause he really needs the money. Nobody’s perfect, but his girlfriend won’t stay with a scab, particularly because the job is selling indentured servants to big corps.
The only way is them up, so he gets an offer to work for the client directly.
A bathroom mixup leads to an horrifying discovery: What?! No! No! What?! Horses?!
Ultimately, he can regain his humanity by joining the union and fighting for his comrades. Stop selling slaves, come sell credit to old people they cannot afford.
This is my place for ramblings about sequences of images that exploit the human visual limitation know as persistence of vision.