Liquid Sky (1983)

I saw this when it came out and was intrigued, and wondered if it would become a cult movie. Seeing it again, I see clearly why it never did.The premise, that aliens might be tiny and feast on our endorphins, whether from drugs or sex, was novel then. The (16-colour?) computer graphics to illustrate it were all we knew, and androgyny and sexual freedom were just beginning to be overshadowed by the AIDS epidemic.In hindsight, the film is amateurish: the characters and dialogue are as stilted as porn (or so I'm told). The music sounds like it is played on a Commodore 64, with an emphasis on square waves that hurt the ears, and Marin Marias' "Sonnerie" has never been so boring. The plot line makes little sense. The aliens leave glass daggers in the heads of two of the characters they kill, and the daggers vanish. The next two corpses themselves vanish, one in front of many onlookers who soon seem to forget the event. While the five deaths are all presented as if from the aliens' viewpoint (and all very similarly), we gain little insight into them or their modus operandi. Most of the human characters are unlikable and one of the two who is (albeit tedious), comes to an unjust and unhappy end.Rocky Horror (1975) did androgyny, camp, face-painting, sex, drugs & alien invasion vastly better, and with wit and songs. It's sad to think of what this might have been.

I watched this movie on a recommendation of a game I was playing as an example of the setting. I watched it another 3 times because I couldn't figure out why they wanted me to watch it. Frankly, I hated it. However, over the years I've pondered this dark comedy as much as any film I've seen including "A Clockwork Orange", "Brazil" and many other acclaimed dark comedies. I've found myself quoting it and even discussing it with friends. Based on that, I'm going to give it a 7 as I think it is due more credit than I originally gave it and I think it is worth an adventure if you have the time. It speaks a lot about society and there is a lot more to it than face value. I don't love it but I do think it was valuable time spent unlike the 3 episodes of "2 Broke Girls" that I was subjected to.

Like, how frickin' whacked-out on heroin does your average image-conscious viewer have to be to enjoy this snooty, NYC, disco, fashion show, drug addiction, electro-trash, aliens-landing-on-Earth movie? Well, I'd say that you'd have to be so ripped outta your head on whatever that this absolutely shallow and utterly incomprehensible movie would strike you (in your freaked-out state of mind) to be totally meaningful and completely level-headed. Yeah. That's how stoned you have to be to enjoy Liquid Sky.The best way for me to explain Liquid Sky (with its dreary post-psychedelic ponderings) would be to say that this is the sort of mish-mash of a movie that makes the likes of Naked Lunch, and all of its insufferable nonsense, make sense.In my opinion, being an independent, low-budget production doesn't in any way excuse Liquid Sky's whining/snivelling dialogue, its very badly-staged violence, its boring sex scenes and/or its pathetically cheap visuals (which includes a truly idiotic-looking flying saucer) (even Ed Wood did better than this).Prior to viewing Liquid Sky I was bluntly informed that this was actually one of the very-very few "gay-tolerant" films ever made during that big, icky mess-of-a-decade called the 1980s.Being somewhat curios to see what that was all about I patiently waded through this film's almost unbearable 2-hour running time and all that I found was a decidedly negative story chock full of hateful, bigoted, narrow-minded and grossly stupid characters whose self-righteous attitudes were, from my perspective, the very thing that's lurking behind the eyes of people who commit such acts of violence as gay-bashing and, yes, child molesting.Liquid Sky (which was neither hip nor sophisticated in its presentation of a particular era in the realm of pop culture) tells (very badly) the tale of tiny, invisible aliens who come to Earth and land their small craft on the rooftop of a NYC penthouse.Seeking heroin (their life force?), these aliens possess Margaret, a flaky junkie/fashion model, and use her to obtain lots of this drug.Since Margaret is also something of an insatiable sex-slut (but not very attractive), the aliens soon discover that (get this!) the endorphins produced by the brain during orgasm are equivalent to heroin's head-kick.And so, with that, they promptly send Margaret out on an adventure in promiscuity (which is a real yawn-fest in itself).Had this film been put into competent and experienced hands then, yes, it could've had the potential to be quite an interesting, little, b-grade head-trip. But, unfortunately, as it stood, Liquid Sky was the sort of humdrum film that started nowhere and ended nowhere. And everything that happened between those 2 dreary points was one of the most easy to forget movie-experiences that I've ever had.P.S.Apparently, Liquid Sky was the slang term used for heroin back in the 1980s.

The time is the 80's. Everyone is either A. on cocaine, B. a rapist, or C. a model. Those who are class B and C. are also class A. Everyone is dressed like extras from "Flash Gordon" with more fish-net, and all the music comes out of a Casio. Two androgynous bi-sexual models named Adrian and Margaret compete in the New York fashion underground for who is cattiest bitch and the most stylish a$$. Both characters are played surprisingly well by the same actress, to heighten both the androgyny of "the scene" at the time, and the repetition. Margaret is the main character, described by her male incarnation Adrian as "...an uptight WASP c*#t from Connecticut.", bookending the film, but being largely absent from its mushy middle. Amidst the usual backstabbing, s*^t talking, runway stomping, and sexual assaults (virtually the only kind of intercourse the film displays) visitors from beyond the stars have also taken an interest in the sordid little events.These aliens live in a tiny, largely invisible UFO, positioned on top of our heroines apartment where they can observe the events inside through a heavily pixilated color blur that resembles Chris Marker's invented film style "The Zone" from "Sans Soliel" or the heat vision the Rasta-lizard of "Predator" views the world through. This psychedelic point of view is repeated throughout the film, as the aliens are the most constant though silent narrators. Their interest in the Manhattan fashionista junky set comes from the same reason that so many are/were attracted to such places; the sex and the drugs. Human orgasm produces more chemical reactions in the brain than at any other time in life. The brain becomes the body's dealer, and the body explodes, shivers, and shrivels back to down to size, patiently awaiting or screaming for it's next fix. For tiny aliens the only drug in the universe better than our cum-chemical's, are these fluids when they come from the opiate riddled brain of a junky."The ancient Egyptians weren't afraid of euphoria", says a drug addled screen-writer in one of the films many inter-connected sub-plots.Thus aliens begin turning up at the fringes of "punk sub-culture" where the junk-cum getting is good and no one cares if people go missing. "New Wave" models are the next evolutionary step forward (for one they have more money drugs). So the junkies wait around to score, and the aliens wait for the junkies to score with each other. Unfortunately there is no way for the aliens to extract these chemicals without killing those they take from, which to Margaret who is often being raped by whoever is spilling their seed, it's as if God himself has suddenly taken an interest in her life. Not enough of an interest to stop her from being raped, but enough to make the bodies of the bad men (and women) disappear after they have done their business. It doesn't take long before she realizes that sex with her leads to death. "Margaret: I kill with my c^*t.". This new sexual power gives her both confidence (to get revenge on those who abused her), and a renewed sense of alienation (what little sexual release and connection she did have is now impossible)."Campy" is something of an understatement for describing "Liquid Sky", a film drenched head to day-glo toe in nihilist attitude, decadent fashion, disturbing sex, and surreal black humor. But also this campiness and seeming lack of "content" and seriousness make enough room for the moments of sincere cultural insight and emotional pathos to stand out in ways that would seem truly alien in a John Waters or Dusan Makavejev flick (two filmmakers "Liquid Sky" is indebted to).The ending of the film once Adrian and Margaret's feud has come to a literal and figurative "head" (couldn't resist the pun…I'm a bad person) is also surprisingly and even unnecessarily sad and vulnerable than would be required of something this "tasteless". Imagine if at the end of "Rocky Horror Picture Show" Brad and Janet had a serious talk about their changing sexuality, or their stifling childhoods or something. And now imagine that scene being successful.What would it be like to come to New York in the 80's from the suburbs? What would it be like to suddenly be surrounded by a never ending race for sensual pleasure and aesthetic perfection, where the tongues are either in your mouth or barbed, forked, and spitting venom at anything resembling "sentimental", or "soft"? What would it be like to thrive in this environment? Would it feel like being food for alien creatures, or would it feel it like feeding them. In a world built around the sexual image, would sex feel liberating, or just like another way to be used. "Liquid Sky" is an absurd pageant, but one not based completely in irony, it's cynicism is hard one from experience. Margaret's inevitable "falling in love" with the UFO, feels like a tragic romance, not a schlocky b-movie. The movie contains both styles in the end, and finds a parasitic way of letting one feed the other to make both aspects stronger. Who is top and who is bottom in this scenario is up to debate."Liquid Sky" is more of an "attitude" than a film, and I know how cheesy that sounds, but divorced from this attitude the performances fall flat. Devoid of the music the scenes would fall flat. Devoid of the humor the dialog would fall flat, and devoid of the dialog the film would fall flat. If any one part of this film were to be altered the rest would fall into chaos like a game of Jenga.As it is they all balance each other out in "cult classic" bliss, which may indeed be more style than substance. Of course Adriane might say something like "substance is for ugly people who lack style", and who am I to argue.