...and the universe for a horse

Do you know which subgenre of film desperately deserves a critical retrospective and more attention?

The answer is 80s/90s/early 2000s James Spader erotic thrillers in which he plays a somewhat creepy yet attractive psychopathic, emotionless, yuppie with a thousand-yard stare that looks into your soul who is also secretly a s*xually depraved sadomasochist that hides his perverse desires under the glare of the capitalist American dream to fit in, or has an affair with someone similarly maladjusted/ s*xually obsessed.

I remember sitting in that theater the first time equal parts utterly absorbed by the whole ride and utterly stunned at the masterful characterization I was watching. I remember the moments where I actually blinked trying to figure out if I was looking at an actor or at Elvis: the 68 special, Suspicious Minds, the Hollywood sign, Unchained Melody, and more.

Austin did the impossible. He faithfully captured the real Elvis. Lisa Marie said so. Priscilla said so. Jerry said so. And we KNOW — we can feel it in the bones — how happy this movie must have made Elvis’s spirit.

I am fairly confident no one will ever come close to this quality. Not in our lifetime anyway. And if I’m incorrect, then wonderful… it would mean that Elvis was getting even more respect and honor than what Baz and Austin brought to him. But short of that, the rest is just impersonation/imitation. There’s nothing wrong with doing impersonation if that’s your thing. But it’s apples and oranges and nothing will ever compare to this extraordinary work of art.

(Trust me, it's been true for every person I met in my life 🥲😆)

Just wondering what percentage of fans actually don’t have access.

🔥Get us to 40,000 in 24 hours🔥

Ask everyone. Post everywhere. We. Need. The. Numbers.

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