Headshot is 8 minutes of silent, sexually charged madness, but don’t get me wrong, this film’s got something to say. I hope that by the end of this review, I’ll know what that is exactly.
We open with Emmy Collins showing a tape of one of his films, Jack the Dipper, to a group of people in his home. The film receives a mixture of responses, ranging from disgust to delight. In the film, star, Emmy Collins, has sex with a piece of construction equipment after getting yelled at by his boss. You can see how some might find that offensive. Anyway, once the film ends, the crowd disperses to act out their own perversions. One woman sits on a toilet eating while a guy looks on in delight. In another sequence three women feast on a long kielbasa, which looks more like they’re performing oral sex. While this is going on, Emmy continues watching his film, then drops his pants and begins to thrust lustfully at the TV screen. At the end, a woman enters with her own tape. While watching, she removes her top and begins masturbating. In the meantime Emmy is more concerned with looking at headshot photos of himself than in her own artistic efforts.
The grainy black and white close ups of the actors provides an added grotesque quality to their actions. As far as sound, there’s no conversation, just very eerie sounds through out. Statements on art, sexuality, consumption and narcissism can be pulled from this one, or just marvel at a guy trying to bang his TV.
