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For several years now, my personal unholy trinity of the worst movies ever made has been well nigh unassailable. I saw Ghostworld in 2003, and have seen many terrible movies since, but every time I asked myself - 'did this film suck as much as Ghostworld, Split Wide Open and/or Moulin Rouge?' the answer has always been a very decisive 'No way!'
But my run of luck ran out totally this Saturday when I settled down to watch The Namesuck. Now you could argue (and with great justification) that I really shouldn't have gone in expecting a good movie out of a book written by Jhumpa Lahiri. And truth be told, I didn't.
I liken my getting into the theatre to a Japanese actress in what she imagines to be her soft porn debut: ready to make a few compromises, feeling slightly disgusted with herself, but more or less confident that she can take whatever is hurled at her. But then she discovers she's unwittingly landed herself a role in the lunatic fringe of the Japorn industry! By the end of a day that begins with rope bondage and rape, she's had sex on and eaten over two dozen cockroaches, been forced to piss on the roaches that survived being er...fucked over and eat them. (This movie really exists, by the way. Click here for details and pictures you sick bastards! Just don't say I didn't warn you. This is naturally NSFW and NMS)
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