Don’t Have a Cow-Man


Gozu (2003), a seriously messed up Japanese horror film is so surreal, I swear I was on drugs while watching it. But I don’t do drugs. (No, beer is not a drug, no matter what the prosecuting attorney argues).


A man goes in search of his missing brother, Ozaki. Along the way he encounters the lactating woman, a human skin suit in his closet and an underwear-clad Minotaur (human with a bovine head) licking his face and covering it with so much cow spit you’d swear a snot balloon just exploded all over him. And I’d rather not talk about that soup spoon being used for insertion purposes right now. I just can’t. And I’m warning you up front about the dog-smashing part.


The ongoing bizarre scenes paint a bigger picture, although I’m not sure what that is. Something to do with repressed homosexuality, repressed heterosexuality, repressed non-sexuality. The birth scene is legendary and carries an ick factor of 9 on a scale of 10. I don’t know about you, but I liked Gozu even though I have no idea what it was about.

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