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Muddled dreams / bad coffee


Tom DiCillo's oneiric film unfolds less like sleep paralysis and more elliptically like Groundhog Day. It's like being stuck in a revolving door of dank rooms that finally releases you onto the film set where improbably it's Steve Buscemi who sort of passes as a babe and not the leather eye-patch clad Dylan McDermott. Dreams simply are the strangest. Mobilized not with clumsy exasperation, but an energized directorial confidence, Buscemi commands his way through the shoot of his movie, the plot of which flips ninety degrees every thirty minutes. It's only by the film's end that we can appraise its entire shape. This is a prime–and overlooked– originator of the New York school of a capital-I indie movie, everything dressed with threadbare kitsch and twists of garish quirk. It's prankish without being hostile and among the least pretentious of film-on-film meta narratives. Catherine Keener spends most of her time in a wedding dress, Peter Dinklage lampoons his stature, romantic entanglements erupt between crew members and a broken fog machine wreaks low-grade havoc.  Bad coffee turns everyone sick, making it plainly evident that no one can wake from this dream even if they tried. But the question remains, would they want to?


Impeccably potent combination of caffeine and alcohol to maintain that feedback loop of dreaming and awake. Snap out of it, or don't.

1.5 oz bourbon

2 oz milk

1/2 teaspoon of vanilla

1/2 tablespoon simple syrup

3 oz of ready-made cold brew or Chock Full O'Nuts left out on the counter in your dreary office.

Shake all ingredients vigorously over ice. Strain into a styrofoam cup. Grate a dash nutmeg. Enjoy.

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