Saturday, September 20, 2014

Where The Dogs Divide Her (2011)

I generally have a huge amount of patience and love for independent horror films. Especially those with little recognition in the greater horror movie world.

This one, though... this one. I'm sorry.

What hurts me the most is the amount of love and dedication that is put into these independent films. I really do not like giving negative reviews to these movies. Blood, sweat, and tears went into this! These are works of passion! I love that, and yet, and yet... every once in a while I stumble upon something that hurts my heart.


As a viewer I ask little from a horror flick. Generally, the horror story told will unfold and give me all the answers I need to understand if I am patient and receptive:

#1: The Problem
#2: The Reason
#3: The Moral
#4: A Review of What Went Wrong
#5: Why, No Matter What I Do, I Will Still Likely Die A Horrible Death

This one, though, Where The Dogs Divide Her, did none of this. It simply confused me more. In fact, after the film I sat on the couch for 10 minutes with a grimace on my face. My Husband asked me what was wrong and all I could respond with was: "I Am So Angry!" He said it was likely because I lost time, happens a lot with patients who undergo surgery.

This movie was too long, too over-dramatic, had too much indie music, too much too much too much of everything to the point it was pretentious.

What I understood from the film: There is a man who has a problem with something. That is all I gathered!

Apparently there was a woman talking throughout the film but I could not make out what she was saying. There was blood on things, said man was licking dolls, digging in dirt, and apparently speaking with a 19 year old who was supposed to be his dead father.

Here, in GIF form, is the rest of my review of the film:


Chris Farley Dafuq

What the Hell!?

Suggested pairing: Malt Liquor, PopTarts way past their expiration date, and the tears of small children.

PS: Where The Dogs Divide Her, this is us:

tyra wtf

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