The sheer artistry in just one frame of Endless Poetry is enough to send you into sensory overload. Raw, sexual and bold, blindingly funny until its tragically melancholic, Alejandro Jodorowsky crafts a divine artistic manifesto – a living-play-cum-autobiography about an poetic soul sending off his childhood and paving his way down a road less traveled. Larger than life in every sense, Endless Poetry is an exaggerated and absurd transformation tale characterized by stunning cinematography and over-the-top characters – everything Alejandro’s mother says is sang, everything his father says is screamed – and yet, it might just be the Santa Sangre director’s most accessible film yet. The film may protest, “Poets don’t explain themselves” but Jodorowsky does a damn fine job of it anyways. (A)
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By: Matt Oakes
Started blogging about film in college when the university paper wouldn’t have him. Dislikes your consensus film Twitter favorites. Devotee of horror movies that make him die a little inside. Catches films at festivals when he can. Proud SFCS and OFCS member and Tomatometer-approved critic. Editor-in-chief of Silver Screen Riot.
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