So apparently the New York Press has a DVD review section, looks to be online only, especially given the sloppy formatting of the piece I'll soon be addressing...I dunno...I guess it's something designed to keep critic Armond White on certain comp lists, whatever. This week White turns his attention to Criterion's new releases of Luis Buñuel's Simon of the Desert and The Exterminating Angel. It will probably come as no surprise to you that his investigations in this area have yielded less useful fruit than those of Dave Kehr, Aaron Hillis, Tim Lucas, and new-to-the-blogosphere GQ critic (and very long-time pal of this blogger) Tom Carson. But, as ever, in this case God, or really, really, really, the Devil, is in the details. Not so much, say, as in Mr. White's interesting misspelling of "shockingly" as "schokingly," which after all could happen to anybody who didn't know how to spell, but rather, his final pronouncement as to the contemporary, um, relevance of these Buñuel masterpieces: "We need both these films now to rectify the confusions that greeted a charming spiritual comedy like Nacho Libre [sic]..."
You should chew on that for a moment before I tell you that White finishes his sentence thusly: "...and the gullible artsnobbery [sic again—I love Zeppelin, don't you?] that greeted a trivial anti-spiritual film like Stellet Nacht [final sic]." The swipe at Stellet Nacht is White in his most banal, predictable mode, but that whole Nacho Libre thing is a masterpiece of derangement. "That sounds like something that someone on mescaline would say," noted My Lovely Wife.
But that, finally, is the key to White's genius—he doesn't need mescaline. His neurons fire that way all by themselves.
I do hope this post finds favor among those who believe that the only movie writers I pick on are poor innocent powerless enthusiasts. And be sure to put SImon, Angel and Nacho Libre on your Netflix queue today!