CELLULOID BURNING

Rolling Thunder (1977) is The Limey (1999) by way of The Deer Hunter (1978), but with a hook for a hand.

I’ll fess up and admit it.

What originally drew me to Rolling Thunder was the fact that Quentin Tarantino named his production company after it. In my estimation, Rolling Thunder just had to be some sort of crazy gonzo pic full of tits and explosions or possibly exploding tits. I came to the film bracing myself for a cinematic hell on earth in an easily digestible, cheapo grindhouse form. I never expected hell on earth to get kicked off with a cheesy John Denver-ish song, but this is the way the world ends in Rolling Thunder.
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Crazy Love is American Beauty meets Catcher in the Rye, but Belgian.
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