117-119 Clerkenwell Road, London
Tue 18 Aug · 18:30
Shrime Time, now in its first orbit round the sun, continues to serve prime pedigree chum for the eyeball in your bum. Anime and Japanese experimental animation. Offensive, reductive, perverse, bizarre, abrasive, gratuitously contentious, depraved and unhinged—rarely sentimental, always beautiful, mental and morose. Ninety minutes no warranty. Masterpiece and disaster-piece are bedfellows here. The rectacular spectacle operates in the shadows, every film a mystery film. No holes barred: mecha, mutant, mafia, tentacles and torture, saccharine sweetness and vapid vaudeville slapstick combine to enshrine the Shrime. The name comes from the Shirime, a yokai whose entire reason for existing is flashing samurai with an eyeball where the sun daren’t shine. No warning. No context. Just b-cinema’s whole philosophy, distilled into a single grotesque wink. Nothing evades the all-seeing rectacular spectacle. All hail the nickel and all who sail with her. The time is Shrime.