Ok, forgive the bad analogy, but since my commandments are rare outside of my workplace (evidence based essays), I had to make that announcement. Forget the nunnery baby, the world is wide wide open with Tangerine on the screen.
With Tangerine, think “Clerks” run by the Santa Monica transgendered. Think “Dope” with an equally great soundtrack’s portrayal of debauched cab drivers and sincere donut shop owners.
All shot on an I-phone, no less. I’m not related to director Sean Baker, but I wish I was. He’s a genius. A millennials’ P.T. Anderson.
I’m writing in monosyllabic, mainly because I’m kicking myself for sending the dvd back to Netflix before watching it again. And there, I’ve revealed my true techno-backwood roots in preferring hard copies to streaming. Perhaps I belong in the Hamlet era sorely in need of Horatio surrounded by Rosencrantzes and Gildensterns.