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In my younger days, I thought I might wind up doing something creative and artistic with my life, little knowing that my future actually held shit like endless arguments over document production and conference calls and briefs which will be edited into meandering garbage and conference calls and thrilling patents and oh the motherfucking conference calls (lawyering … get some!). Anyways, when I was a starry-eyed creative type, one of the things I thought about doing one day was putting together a book or a documentary about art in public spaces, specifically focusing on murals and posters. The mural part was inspired by all the kick-ass murals in Philly, one of my favorite things about the city. The posters part, I think, was inspired by a trip to London.
So when I discovered, last night, a recent documentary that’s been screening, one which purports to be “a candid look at the underground poster culture in North America” and “the creative spirit that drives these indie graphic artists,” I was stoked. I’ll never see my idea come to fruition by my own hand, but perhaps Died Young, Stayed Pretty had taken care of one part of it for me.
Not so much, I suspect. I knew we were off to bad start with this trailer right from the get-go when some motherfuckers started disparaging pink octopi. And shit only goes downhill from there because, brother, this thing looks meandering and boring. Fantastic idea for a flick but, if this trailer is any reasonable representation of the tone and editing and presentation of the film, what a waste of an awesome subject. In fact, the posters for the flick, which are on its website (and I piece of which I used for this entry’s header image), are way more interesting than the trailer.
But you can decide for yourself.