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Li'l Quinquin (2014) by Bruno Dumont
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Some people have called this French TV mini-series the French Twin Peaks.

I was skeptical, of course, but boy did it suck me in.  Even though slow-moving, it has a hypnotic absurdist appeal, and I found myself getting very attached to so many of the characters (by comparison, I felt very little involvement in the characters in Jodorowsky's Dance of Reality).  Because it's 3 hours and 26 minutes long, I couldn't finish it in one night.  Oddly enough, all the next day I felt impatient for evening to come so I could revisit the characters.

A shame this never got renewed, as I would have been fully aboard for another season.

Never have I seen so many messed up people in my life.  Almost everyone gracing the screen is freakish in a Felliniesque way.  Many are physically or mentally damaged, if not both.  Some of it borders on the horrific.  Yes, we're talking more retinal scarring.  The small village where so much of the story unfolds, along with the family and community life there, feels totally genuine and full of humanity.  I feel in love with the place.


If you've got eyeballs, consider treating them to this smorgasbord of the grotesque.
I'm nobody's pony.
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