![]() House of Games and Blue Collar possess a crafty bleakness, to be sure, but a modern fable wherein the body of an advertising exec is commandeered by a sentient, puss-dribbling shoulder boil suggests unprecedented vocational spite. One can’t blame Lopate for overlooking this quality, however, as there’s nothing in the debuts of David Mamet or Paul Schrader on par with Robinson’s reckless piss and vinegar. The blistering dyad of movies that British author Bruce Robinson produced with HandMade Films in the late ’80s proudly manifests all of these, and adds one by way of aggressive underscoring: an acerbic worldview. As part of an essay cycle that roves the cinema of the 1990s for vestiges of intelligent life, Phillip Lopate identifies several attributes that typify the early style of writer-turned-directors-creatively interpolated exposition, admirably ham-fisted mise-en-scène, and skewedly erudite characters among them.
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