I mean David La Chapelle's "Romeo and Juliet".
Actually, I mean H&M's presentation of the above.
Actually, I mean it is one of those annoying clusterfucks that purport to be adverts, but are in fact five-minute (but feel like five-hour) adverts that are filled with pretty people selling us shit that we neither need or, hopefully, want.
And this is the worst one ever: meaning it is worse than the most hideous abomination your mind could ever dredge up. It really is that bad.
It follows the adventures of two idiots, who wear masks, H&M denims, and dance around like retards...oh, and in one unforgettable scene Juliet floats down from a fire escape. The male idiot is shot and, thankfully, killed for what appears to be no reason - although I chuckled to myself and imagined them to be in the Hobo's employ! Then the female idiot drools over his corpse and begins singing like Mary J Blige and is then shot by the Police for holding up the male idiot's mobile phone for them to see; presumably the photo on his phone was something they found offensive. Or maybe they were London's finest who had mistaken her for a Brazilian and killed her just to make sure. And then comes the coda of the happy lovers on a bed - half naked in H&M denims! Which is - of course - what really happens to you after you die.
At the end - on both occasions - the cinema was filled with hoots of mortified derision. And on both occasion the Hobo led the outcry.
And I've seen it twice! But I would have preferred never to have seen it at all. After watching it I felt faintly filthy. I felt like only a shower of scorching acid could clean the stench of it from my skin. Fortunately, both times, I followed this abomination with David Cronenberg's quite brilliant 'A History of Violence', a film which I enjoyed all the more because I was able to imagine every one of Viggo Mortensen's crippling assaults were being inflicted upon the broken cadaver of David La Chapelle.
How H&M - who always seemed like a fairly savvy company - could possibly imagine that this wretched abomination would make pepole want to buy jeans is beyond me. It doesn't make me want to buy jeans. It makes me want to burn them! And then maybe throw La Chapelle into the pyre for good measure. And then maybe myself, so that the pain will finally all be over!
This monstrosity is being threatened in cinemas everywhere all through October. If you see the titlecard then do something useful: leave the auditorium immediately and buy confectionary and fizzy drinks for the next five minutes.
Or you could always hunt down and destroy David La Chapelle. But, beware, the Hobo will leading the way!
Oh, and for anyone interested, the short film is taking longer than expected, so I will be resuming normal service until I can get get the funds and the actors needed to pursue my dream!