D®inks / for everyone

 

            D®inks / for everyone 

 

              'Drinks for everyone' a drunken character in The Tenant says it better as he storms into the local bar, carrying on - and ©inexplicably doing the pa®lez-vous - more like a boorish ©inadian (hooker please –id.) than any Frenchman, and then, pointing to a disconsolate companion of your man the protagonist and director of the film Roman Polanski, 'everyone' comes the punch-line that hits (y)our man ©in the humble(d) narrator of this Take This Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and d®inks / for everyone square in the solar plexus, for the boor might as well be speaking to and of / him, such is the quality of life lived under ®egime ze®o, 'everyone except / for him,' square in the solar plexus is all / we gots.

                                 

              How dare you Dea® Dia®y, how dare you say / such things.  You can bring a sweaty ox to water, innit Coop, but you mustn't let  / him d®ink, for fear of offending / the haters.  Course 'you mustn't let grief' Romanski's tenant character says it better to his aformentioned disconsolate companion - everyone in this movie drinking heavily and rat-assed half of the time like everyone in every movie and in every waking hour on-screen and off in ever ever-loving place up on out on up on out on up on out on up on this Dog and Pony Show (that's enough -id.) - distraught over the death of the previous occupant of the tenant's flat in the movie, 'overcome you', it's as good a slogan as any, 'words of wisdom, Lloyd my man' - What Would Jack Say as Jack Torrence in Kubrick’s take on you’re the Shining, innit Mr. King, pou®-pou®-poo® me another one-ing, as his fellow-sufferers say it better apropos going on and on and in about woe / is me and all that and pou® / me another be©ause poo® / me, Lloyd the imaginary Gold ®oom and Overlook Hotel bartender - 'words / of wisdom', pou®-pou®-poo® me another is all / we gots.

             

              How dare you Dea® Dia®y write such a horro®eview as you did last night of Polanski’s The Tenant, reducing the plot of the movie to the diminutive protagonist and director getting an outside-the-pants half-baked hand-job whilst watching a Bruce Lee movie with the character played by the t®es belle actress Isabelle Adjani, twice again / the tenant's height.  Having run out of fresh movies to horroreview, and having exceeded his monthly download quota from his $100.00 / month service provider not half-way into the month, and having long ago cut / the cable as the slogan goes, (y)our man ©in not for the first or last time is after videeing and horroreviewing the same movies again and again and again, twice again / the tenant's height is all / we gots.

 

              There is a psychological angle to this movie that ©in missed the first / second time around, namely that ever loving person in the apartment building is out his / her mind, not only the title character, your man Polanski the eponymous (hooker please –id., oh wait, what ?) tenant.  As a result your man the tenant's days and nights - after the first brief bout of irrational exuberance that he exhibits after finding a sweet sweet Parisian apartment - are filled the terror and horror, 'horror' Brando's Colonel Kurtz says it better in Coppola's Apocalypse Now, of two of the better tools to have in / your toolbox, 'and mo®al terror', ho®®o® and mo®al te®®o® is all / we gots.

 

              'L'horreur' the French as always say the former better, it's a versatile expression, used over there to indicate approbation and / or disapproval, which they also express better over there, 'l'horreur' they will say it better when someone acts like 'un imbecile', and (y)our man ©in should know, for he has and he is.  There is much more horreur as the French know up on on out on up on out on up on out on up on out on this Dog and Pony Show than most of the rest of us care  to think about, which is why Cin loves / French films, l'ho®®eu® is all / we gots.

 

              Course your (wo)man the tenant has some other issues as well in this film, seeing as that from the looks of it (s)he is becoming the previous tenant day-by-day and night-by-night, purchasing and wearing wigs and being short with the goofy, ©inexplicably English-speaking waiter at the local bar.  Then (s)he hauls out and bitch-slaps a kid at the park, 'you little' the tenant says it better as the kid wails, 'brat', 'betise' is another great French word, it means literally 'beastly', what a beast / would do.

 

              Meanwhile, his / her neighbors back at his Champs Elysee apartment are having strange meetings and ceremonies in the courtyard morning noon and night, strange meetings and ceremonies to which the titular character the Tenant has not been / invited, a feeling that (y)our man and humble(d) narrator ©in too knows all / too well, not ©invited to strange meetings and ceremonies in the courtyard is all / he gots.  Isabelle Adjani's character never throws the tenant out of course, not the first or last French beauty unable to throw Roman Polanski out / the room be©ause sta®-fu©ke®, even as the tenant tries to explain to her -correctly from the looks of it - that 'they're trying to turn me into / Simone', the previous tenant who snuffed it by jumping out the apartment window, sta®-fu©ke®s is all / we gots.   

Soon enough your (wo)man the tenant is after trawling around le Gare du Nord neighborhood in Gaie Pa®is, looking to buy a gun, and getting hit / by Peugots and Citroens.  It's all hallucination now, all / the time for your (wo)man the tenant, all dolled up as 'Simone' in his flat waiting for the wicked ceremonies in the courtyard to begin, no one knows if (s)he's dreaming or hallucinating, male or female, alive or dead, before off / (s)he goes from the balcony, you see it's all repeating again, everone who lives in that flat goes coo-coo / for coa-coa puffs at one time / or another, going coo-coo / for coa-coa puffs at one time / or another is all / we gots.

It's pretty good, movie ends hard - with 'Simone' / Tcshovsksky the tenant having visitors at the hospital after jumping off the balcony for the umpteenth time and then screaming, just before the famous 'Paramount' mountain and studio icon end the film abruptly just / like that - ending hard and abruptly and just like that is all / we gots.

              Thanks for reading this Take This Thing Back to Baltimore me-moirs and d®inks / for everyone.