When I tell someone about this blog, I hardly ever say the actual name of it. It's not that I'm not proud of it, or that I don't want them to read it, I'm just afraid that they won't get it. Not that they won't like it, to each his own, but that they'll think that I've somehow been wasting my time on an stupid idea that only means something to me. If I have a thousand comments on , only about ten are from people I actually know. My friends? People I've actually seen in person? They hardly say anything - good or bad.
Rapare is a short film written and directed by my childhood friend, Justin Roppolo. We've known each other since I was in eighth grade (he's a year older) and have bullshitted about movies likely since the day we met. While I'm rather comfortable at being all talk, Justin has spent years toiling away at screenwriting. And for the second time, he's taken action and brought his script to life. What a dick.
Described to me years ago as Jesus in a hotel with a hooker, Rapare tells the story of a downtrodden mom, forced to prostitution as a way to take care of her daughter who is battling leukemia. Uplifting shit, right?
Anyway, it turns out that Jesus pays this woman a visit, hoping to restore her faith in God. Perhaps if someone in an impossibly shitty situation like her can believe in God's plan, the man upstairs could be persuaded to call off plans to firebomb the shit out of Earth,
I'd hate to spoil the ending for you, that is, but I didn't f--king understand it. Maybe it's because everything I know about religion Rev. Lovejoy taught me, or maybe the ending is (intentionally?) ambiguous, I'm not not sure. Either way, I was left vigorously scratching my head (and balls) when the credits rolled.
The only thing you'll want to scratch after the Yays and Boos, will be your eyes - out, as our typical douchery currently has more weight than usual. Oh I'm not worried about Justin, I could take him pretty easily, I'm worried that Gabriel is out there, and that dude looks likes he could f--k shit up.
And while I hope my criticism (if you can call it that) won't come off as too hard or overly petty, I'm actually feeling pretty good about this post. I mean, it's not like he's going to comment, right?
He's my friend. .
UPDATE: You can check out Rapare here. Please comment here. Justin thinks played nice because we're friends. Obviously, you're not his friend...so...you know what to do.
Described to me years ago as Jesus in a hotel with a hooker, Rapare tells the story of a downtrodden mom, forced to prostitution as a way to take care of her daughter who is battling leukemia. Uplifting shit, right?
Anyway, it turns out that Jesus pays this woman a visit, hoping to restore her faith in God. Perhaps if someone in an impossibly shitty situation like her can believe in God's plan, the man upstairs could be persuaded to call off plans to firebomb the shit out of Earth,
I'd hate to spoil the ending for you, that is, but I didn't f--king understand it. Maybe it's because everything I know about religion Rev. Lovejoy taught me, or maybe the ending is (intentionally?) ambiguous, I'm not not sure. Either way, I was left vigorously scratching my head (and balls) when the credits rolled.
The only thing you'll want to scratch after the Yays and Boos, will be your eyes - out, as our typical douchery currently has more weight than usual. Oh I'm not worried about Justin, I could take him pretty easily, I'm worried that Gabriel is out there, and that dude looks likes he could f--k shit up.
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| Rahad Coulter-Stevenson as Gabriel, head of Hooker Acquisition. |
Yaaaaay!
- There's a pretty sweet mirror conversation early between Jesuses, if that's a term. Good stuff, indeed.
- So, both of the random John's she does are pretty sketchy, but BJ Guy looked incredibly legit. Like, so much so I'm pretty sure he just happened to roll through the production asking everyone to suck him off and they just kept filming.
- Gabriel. The whole cast is solid, but the guy playing God's messenger was the man. Dude can look up like a motherf--ker.
- $600 dollars to buy a prostitute for the night? Seems reasonable, right?
- And finally, the fact that this movie exists. If you knew this guy when he was in high school, you probably wouldn't have thought he could successfully play a movie, let alone write and direct one.
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| Five dollars is all my mom allows me to spend. |
Boooooo!
- There's some pretty awesome porno-ish music in this one. So, why's it a Boo? Well, I'm pretty sure Justin's dad is not singing it, and that's just unacceptable.
- Trick #2 is a real douche. I'm pretty sure his big line is the worst thing I've ever heard.
- Jesus, dude, put on a shirt! Your abs are heavenly, sure, but damn, son. You don't need to rub them in our face.
- Product placement. Whenever I find myself in the ugliest town on the face of the planet, I'm going to feel obligated to stay at the Penguin Motel.
- There's a title card at the end quoting the bible and it says that those who are wise will understand. Well, thanks for that.
- And finally, like I said, the ending. I've watched it three times and still I'm not sure what the Hell happened.
All that said, I have nothing but respect for Justin, or anyone who stops at nothing to bring their dream to life. Especially when that dream is movie-making. With all the countless (and costly) issues that pop up, even the most stubborn of pricks could be defeated and deterred. Obviously, that's not the case here.
If you ever get the chance to see this short film, please do. Not only to support to my friend and his hard work, but maybe you'll be able to decipher the tamat thirty-seconds. I'd like to say I didn't get it because I'm a dirty heathen, but it's likely I'm just an idiot. I mean, look at the people I chose to hang out with.
And while I hope my criticism (if you can call it that) won't come off as too hard or overly petty, I'm actually feeling pretty good about this post. I mean, it's not like he's going to comment, right?
He's my friend. .
UPDATE: You can check out Rapare here. Please comment here. Justin thinks played nice because we're friends. Obviously, you're not his friend...so...you know what to do.