by Evan Dickson.
A little while ago I tossed up an article about the sale of Black Rock at Sundance. In fact, it should be the piece right below this one.
Right after doing so I saw that Devin Faraci, one of my favorite critics, had already filed his review of the film over at Badass Digest so I headed over there to check it out. You can do the same by clicking here.
Now I’m gonna state in bold letters that I have not seen Black Rock. For all I know it could become my favorite movie of 2012. I don’t always agree with Devin (maybe 70% of the time), but he’s one of a handful of about 5 or 6 critics whose reviews are my “go-tos” when I’m deciding what films to spend my time or money on as a consumer (I don’t always see everything for free, especially non-horror stuff). Whether or not I ultimately agree with his take on something, he’s got a knack for thoroughly explaining the reasoning behind his reactions that’s in a language I can relate to.
So I was surprised to come across a couple lines in his piece on Black Rock that echoed something that’s been on my mind for sometime in regard to genre and people who think they’re slumming in it.
Read the rest of this article from Bloody-Disgusting.
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