1. Oldtownboy
Hello Paul, I'd like to play a game... after being imprisoned for years in a small, mountainous country in central Europe, a man is released with money, a cellphone, and a decent selection of zegna shirts. He struggles to piece together the circumstances of his abduction by weaving his way through the dangerous interlocked worlds of the global hedge fund industry and the Chicago gay porn theater industry (especially that second one), only deviating from his relentless quest to eat the occasional live octopus. Eventually his securitized operating asset offers based on Peter North's dependable erections raise interest amongst the powerful and dangerous, disturbing the still waters of his past, this fall in... Oldtownboy.
2. All the Captain's Men
This political thriller tells of the rise and fall of fictitious east St. Paul politician Billy Beagle, his innocent beginnings and his eventual corruption at the hands of the Minnesota Butter lobby. Following a major scandal over a road bill provision to create 5 mph or less lanes next to the curbs on University Ave to improve traffic flow and stimulate local commerce, city council member Beagle must run an expensive campaign to restore his image as a conservative family values candidate, his usual campaign contributors the Ushers Union, Bubble-Up Carwash, and George Soros won't return his calls, and some $#@%'ing jackass keeps stealing his yard signs. In desperation, he turns to the Butter lobby and their money propels his meteoric rise to political
power broker in Minnesota politics. At first the compromises are easy, he pushes a bill to put more signs on Lexington Ave to help people find the Dairy Queen and avoid misunderstandings, but eventually, with a congressional investigation into tubs of Afghani goat butter used to smuggle heroin into the state through Lake of the Woods, Billy Beagle is found drowned in a bucket of movie theater artificial butter topping.
3. The Maltese Seahawk
Strangely evil college advisor Silke Spaten meets a colorful cast of characters who come to Seattle in pursuit of a black-lacquered statue of a black cock, believed to actually be covering over a priceless, jewel-encrusted mold of Sean Michaels created in 1187 by miscast European actors Orlando Bloom and Eva Green as a gift to Queen Elizabeth (who they figured could really use it) to apologize for losing Jerusalem. Silke must put aside those and many other painful anachronisms to sort through the stories told by homme mortel Bryan O'Shaughnessy, who may have lured Silke's roommate to her death, as well as the curious PJ Cairo, who comes into her office to discuss securitizing the statue but mostly just to fondle and admire his own cane, as well as the mysterious fat man D, who Cairo implies is pulling the strings. Murder, mayhem, and poorly constructed puns about porn star penises, in theaters this fall.
4. Nauru Vice
On an island in the south pacific with thirteen thousand people crammed into eight steamy square miles facing 90% unemployment, Nauru needed somebody to walk the beat. And after a near-death experience choking on a particularly thick cheese fondue, one man was ready for the job. Due to financial irregularities involving importation of fireworks into the European Union, he lives 24/7 under an assumed identity, known to the local underworld only as "Amstelboy". In a linen suit with a pastel wifebeater, and loafers with and no socks, Amstelboy cruises around the island's perimeter in his cigar boat waving his badge in circles making annoying siren noises. The movie centers around some tourists who arrive on the island with money that they earned legally and want to keep receipts so they can pay their taxes, and Amstelboy must avert the crisis by finding some way to charge them for money laundering... as in charge them for services rendered, the basis of the Nauru economy.
5. Kevin + Sky
In this foreign film, I put on a suit with a pink shirt and run around traffic circles tearing my clothes off while searching for a prostitute who bathes with goldfish, pausing only for waffles and shellfish, and to urinate in the locks of BMWs. If you don't think that can be stretched out to 90 minutes, you haven't watched enough Belgian cinema.
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