"Drawing Restraint 9" Should've Had More Drawing and Fuckload More Restraint

I just got done watching my proudly pirated copy of Drawing Restraint 9, and realized that I need my 140 minutes of my life back. Now. I laughed my way through half of it at Barney's often tacky attempts at being esoteric and hocking the "mystery" of Oriental culture to what he must believe is our narrow Western minds. Here are the notes I took, which started about halfway through the film when I noticed that if I didn't take severe action, I'd start muttering angrily to myself among the pink Hannah Montana posters of my little sister's room.

(Do my sentences ramble? Good, you'll get the idea of the agony I endured sitting through this overblown piece of dumbfuckery.)

Petroleum jelly sculpture?? Cremaster Part Seis!
Faux fur kimono, diadema scrunchies, teeth blackening, samurai-esque balding... who does he think he's fooling T_T
Kick out the jazz people with some white face... oh wait, no, I forgot we left our authenticity at the genkan
No Japanese person would wear those crazy ass geta, sorry
Oh! It's a wedding! *cue deep Shinto references most Americans would never get without wikipedia*
Interesting bits muddled by fake Japanese culture-ish esoteric wannabe bullshite
Oh and not just English counts as dialogue Meesta' Bah-ney HO HAR *death blow to his "deep" 2 word script*
Yes, I get all the culture references, No, I'm not impressed
No slamming the tea door shut Bjork? For shame!
Matt- tea ceremony. Ur doing it rong.
BUUT, cool sea creature utensils- totally impractical but hey it's an art film and one of the few things I like about this scene
You didn't say the magic words!
I bet seiza is kicing their asses
--HA! Crumbled under the pressure of seiza.
SNOGFEST
Hmm smells like tuna

However, a poster on IMDB put the experience quite eloquently:
Well, Mr. Barney (who is currently schtupping Bjork) has made a living out of the aforementioned style of "Hey, I can see my kidney!" head-up-your-own-rear pretentious filmmaking. This is the guy who gave us the CREMASTER CYCLE, a 3 + hour work of "artistic" filmmaking that, albeit pretty to look at, was the equivalent of your buddy giving you directions to his house by taking a dump in a punch bowl and pouring it on your newly-bought German Sheperd, spelling "Now you Know the Way, My Friend" on the dog's hindquarters with his fingers before stripping down to a chamber maid's uniform and skipping away into the sunset.


In the end, I think I despise the way he conducts his business more than the actual product since he works from an ivory tower mentality and charges $250,000 per DVD.

Maybe I'm just not cutthroat enough to make that kind of money off of my art. But at least I'll have my integrity... right?
*turns back to my instant ramen*