Out of the up and coming production company, Depth Charge Pictures, comes See Naples
Then Die, an Aaron Stielstra directed film that will leave many viewers in a state of fevered delirium and dysentery. As soon as I heard the voice of the introductory read-over, I lol'ed like a tweenage girl watching Blossom reruns, which I now suspect was a setup for the disturbing decent I was about to bear witness to. Mexican street thugs, hillbillies, harelips, Asian and Italian stereotypes, paint sniffers, and obscene man-blobs (fat-stuffed with so much pillow they make those Biggest Losers look almost human) all intermingle, verbally excreting and running rampant through McGinty Springs and the director's personal stock footage of Naples (or similar locations). Truth be told, I had little idea what was actually going on for the first 50 minutes but by then, the aforementioned delirium had taken hold and it was smooth sailing until the end, where a jittery, slow-motion gunfight brings it all full circle. The intricacies of human nature this film explored were both complex and moving, nearly leaving me emotional during its final moments. It was during those moments I realized the film's brilliant, underlying design, a subtle but provocative critique on sociological mores and the very destiny of mankind. Three young children are briefly shown at the beginning, middle, and end; one with what is commonly referred to as a mullet (in Italy, no less!), the infamous Fat Jessica, and Demon Baby, respectively. These afflicted youths relate to and, indeed, validate the main characters in profound ways, and represent the succession of the deepest depths of (in)humanity. Furthermore, taken as a cautionary tale, the parallels between the kids and the ghosts (past, present, and future) of Dickens' A Christmas Carol are impressive, and frightening in their implications, to say the least. Stielstra is clearly a studied talent to be taken seriously. I also appreciated how the gorno subtext cleverly introduced early on contrasted with the subsequent displays of excessive and watery squib-work, a commentary some will surely find controversial but I believe is important to the wellbeing of contemporary cinema.
The overall quality of the production was reminiscent of early Wild Dogs shorts, which is to say it was obviously low-budget and often shoddy, facts thoroughly embraced and wallowed in. The A-list cast, however, shined in their depraved roles, nearly convincing that they really were an assemblage of mental handicaps, hobos, and Backyard Wrestling rejects, if one didn't know better. Stielstra himself bravely assumes a multitude of embarrassing (the latino rap) parts, a brave decision given the obviously demanding forethought and direction SNTD must've required. I reckon most other indie directors would shudder placed in his bold shoes. Established auteur Michael Fredianelli lends his formidable acting talents to the picture but there's only so much salvaging he can do with such shamefully limited screen time. SNTD also boasts a powerful soundtrack made up of 80's and classic rock, viking metal (inspiring a particularly memorable dream sequence), easy funk, and stirring synth riffs, which I loved.
The hand-drawn DVD sleeve was magnificent, as was the lone extra, A Man Named Henry, a heartfelt ode to the great Henry Silva, whose inspiration was felt throughout the film. In all honesty, it's hard to believe adults were behind See Naples Then Die, it's that experimental. Watch it, and don't decide to ask why, just absorb this boundary-pushing oddity of legitimate IMDb listings.
The overall quality of the production was reminiscent of early Wild Dogs shorts, which is to say it was obviously low-budget and often shoddy, facts thoroughly embraced and wallowed in. The A-list cast, however, shined in their depraved roles, nearly convincing that they really were an assemblage of mental handicaps, hobos, and Backyard Wrestling rejects, if one didn't know better. Stielstra himself bravely assumes a multitude of embarrassing (the latino rap) parts, a brave decision given the obviously demanding forethought and direction SNTD must've required. I reckon most other indie directors would shudder placed in his bold shoes. Established auteur Michael Fredianelli lends his formidable acting talents to the picture but there's only so much salvaging he can do with such shamefully limited screen time. SNTD also boasts a powerful soundtrack made up of 80's and classic rock, viking metal (inspiring a particularly memorable dream sequence), easy funk, and stirring synth riffs, which I loved.
The hand-drawn DVD sleeve was magnificent, as was the lone extra, A Man Named Henry, a heartfelt ode to the great Henry Silva, whose inspiration was felt throughout the film. In all honesty, it's hard to believe adults were behind See Naples Then Die, it's that experimental. Watch it, and don't decide to ask why, just absorb this boundary-pushing oddity of legitimate IMDb listings.