Not Too Deep & Not Too Dark
“Deep Dark” is the romantic story between a man and a hole (I could end this review here). Hermann is an unemployed artist living with his mother (typical). He is into “Kinetic Art”, confident that he is the next big thing (typical), seeking for an opportunity to prove it (his sculptures reminded me of this scene from “Freddy Got Fingered”). Since Hermann is too talented to get a job, his poor mother is forced to rent out his bedroom because she can barely pay the bills. Hermann then realizes that if he doesn’t find a solution quickly (except getting a job), he will soon be sleeping alongside with his beloved mother (what’s wrong with that?) and calls his uncle (which happens to be a successful art dealer) to ask not for a job, but for some kind of tips on how to sell the garbage he makes out of garbage, for art. His uncle tells him that he can stay in one of his flats for as long as he wants to, for just $800 a month! They may be relatives but a good agreement makes a good friend. The flat of course not only doesn’t look to worth $800 but it looks like a filthy hole, like an infested rectum that not even haemorrhoids would want to live there.
Too bad for Hermann who cannot afford it, and since his uncle Scrooge doesn’t discount, his last hope is to expose his work to the municipal art gallery, where a well-known agent will be there in search of talent. A great opportunity that can’t go unexploited but can go terrible wrong, as his awkward piece of art will not only cause derision and mockery, but also cause havoc in the gallery. In the vertigo of his embarrassment, the hiss and the detest of the audience and fellow artists, Hermann, like a miserable, desperate, hopeless, abject, begs the agent for a second chance and promises that if he doesn’t hand over a masterpiece in the next two weeks, he will quit art, forever (unfortunately just art, not life)! Therefore he decides to rent his uncle’s hovel for two weeks, and locks himself in to create his next masterstroke! The only good thing about this rathole is it’s cute but creepy manager, who for some reason likes Hermann and flirts with him by making him pies (the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach), with Hermann giving her the cold shoulder because he’s s a wanker devoted only to his art (which is wanking).
There, in this slum, this concrete abscess, where even half-dead junkies wouldn’t enter to die by shooting their last fix, pinning the needle straight into the brain through their eyes. There, up on the despair of his non-inspiration, Hermann will discover the hole inside the hole that he lives in. A hole that will give to his miserable existence a purpose, that will give him the verve to eventually create something that will matter. No, not the manager’s hole, a hole in the wall. In the fucking wall! In one of his artistic deliriums, Hermann will notice a note coming out from a hole in the wall that says “relax, I can help” (relax, I can help you relax). The hole can help him indeed, but it wants something in return (there is no such thing as a free lunch), it wants cock! Yes, you read this correct. The hole in the wall wants to fuck (is it a glory hole?)! And when I say “fuck” I don’t mean rough messy plastering and hard sloppy patching, but a thorough and meticulous work from a master craftsman, from a true artist, like Hermann (is this porn?).
After that, as a natural consequence the hole will start nagging, complaining and making scenes of jealousy (?) like, “Where have you been all day long Hermann?” — “Oh my God you’re driving me insane! You’re just a hole to me, JUST A HOLE!” and such. “Yes, but exactly how is the hole helping Hermann with his art?” I hear you say. I’ll tell you, by taking a shit (it’s getting better and better), or giving birth, I don’t know which hole is it. Hermann is pulling out of the hole, as if he helps it give birth to, some kind of cysts, like big balls of mucus, which after he cleans them from the slime they’re into, he uses them for his sculptures (I was creating such artwork myself as a child. I was sticking it under the desk).
Hermann will return to the gallery with his disgusting artefact after two weeks, as promised, and leave the agent utterly speechless. On the first exhibition the critics and collectors will be so excited and aroused by Hermann’s hanging aphrodisiac goo dreamcatcher, that they will literally fuck each other right there on the spot! After such a hit (?), the agent will ask more artworks from Hermann to arrange an exclusive exhibition of his boogers, so that she can suck the juice out of his success. That means that Hermann must meet the requirements of the hole, keep sticking his pecker in, satisfying the hole’s needs if he want’s it to poop more of these rotten Brussels sprouts, to keep living his dream. But for how long can he fool the agent? How absurd the demands of the hole can go? And most importantly, who is behind the hole? The manager? His uncle? His mother? A hobo? Or is it just nobody because Hermann is a demented fuck that fucks bricks? Do you really want to know, does it matter?
As I was reading my review (more like a description you mean), it gave me the impression that it’s a fun movie. Don’t be fooled, it’s not. It doesn’t even know what it wants to be. A comedy? A thriller? Science fiction? A romance? It has all these elements but none of them dominates the film, which ends up to be slow and boring. The idea is very weird, original and promising but the way it plays out is so disappointing. It’s a crazy story that nothing crazy really happens, at least for the most part. Everything is indifferent to moderate, the cinematography, the acting, the characters, I thought I was watching a “made for TV” movie, and in particular an episode of the “Outer Limits”, or something like that. As for the title of the film, misleading and vague. It should have been called something like “Glory Hole Of Death”, or “Fucking House”, these are more accurate, more fun and can sell more DVDs.
Originally published at videogasp.blogspot.com on August 18, 2017.
