New York Times film critic Manohla Dargis, who still sounds like a shoe to me, leads off her review of Zoo with the following:
“The director Robinson Devor apparently would like viewers who watch his heavily reconstructed documentary, “Zoo,” to see it as a story of ineluctable desire and human dignity. Shot on Super 16-millimeter film, with many scenes steeped in a blue that would have made Yves Klein envious, “Zoo” is, to a large extent, about the rhetorical uses of beauty and metaphor and of certain filmmaking techniques like slow-motion photography. It is, rather more coyly, also about a man who died from a perforated colon after he arranged to have sex with a stallion.”
I am all for the rhetorical uses of beauty and metaphor, but, frankly, I’m going to stay with chicks. They perforate your heart, your brain, and your wallet, but they leave your colon pretty much alone, which is just the way I like it.
According to Slate, other reviewers found the film to be slow-moving. Hey, any film that ends with a guy getting it in the ass from Mr. Ed (above, right), is moving too fast for me.
A tip of the Van Man’s lid to Radley Balko of “Reason” magazine, for alerting me to the humor inherent in equine-induced perforated colons.
Trot on over to Mr. Ed’s cyberstables for a shot of the big guy sticking his ass in your face. Fucking turnabout is fucking fair play, eh?
For an engagingly detailed defense of the thesis that Mr. Ed was actually a zebra, go here.