On the Valentine’s Day of your first year alone you made pasta. It was disgusting, you swore you would do better next time. You built a fire and cooked a chicken you had caught. Trekking into the woods with an axe and trying to find a tree you could carry all by yourself, and hanging lights that would never turn on. Why were you alive if they were not coming back? You celebrated every holiday. You had convinced yourself that they were coming back. The first year in the world alone you truly made an effort. Was it beans, or corn? You wonder to yourself. You recall that the grocery store five miles down the road still had some canned food on it’s shelves. You walk out your front door, figure you would make your way to a grocery store or gas station. You would complain about the noise, be annoyed at having to shout over your meal just to hear your partner. Perhaps then you didn’t realize how desolate it would be without all of those other couples.
Eating at a restaurant, listening to live music, the ambiance of other couples’ chatter filling the room. Going to a bar, meeting someone, and taking that person on a date. A day of rest a day to spend with those you love. When the world functioned as it used to, Sunday would have been a weekend. Not a bad day for Valentine’s Day, all things considered. It has been four years since the year at the top has changed and you stopped keeping track of how the days were supposed to move long ago. You put an X in the box and think back to a time when you didn’t even own a calendar. You look at the calendar hanging on your wall. No different than any other day, you suppose, yet the date makes it feel more empty. You’d be better off watching a Saw movie.Īlone on Valentine’s Day. The movie tried to shock viewers, but all it left was a feeling of utter disappointment. The performance given by Sven Garrett is so fucking terrible, it was far more entertaining than the movie itself. It’s an awful movie made by a talentless director.
It’s a complete waste of time, unless you’re looking for a good laugh. With all that blood everywhere, you’re just asking to get caught. The grossest thing in this movie is how unsanitary the photographer’s secret room is. Most of the kills happened off-camera, with nothing more than a blood spray to the photographer’s face. Nothing in this movie shocked me nor did anything gross me out. It tries to be gory and nasty, but it hardly does that. Really, all this reminded me of was Killing Stalking it was trying way too hard to be an insightful, deep look into the mind of a serial killer, when in reality, it was a sad, one-dimensional excessive take on what I can only describe as the closest thing to a snuff film. It felt at times as though it was trying to get me to sympathise with the photographer, but he was a fucking Nazi and a killer. Murder-Set-Pieces (2004) - This movie was.
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