[ WP ] - Tarantino pitching his porno

I mean, you saw Nymphomaniac, right? Two volumes of vapid reel. It's nothing like a Nekromantik, because, um, if you're going for avant garde without just the straight up, you know, um, the business, you really got ta reach down, right to your elbow, down the audiences' throats, grab them by their, you know, their stuff, and yank it straight up so they're like, um, giving themselves a BJ with their own, uh, stuff from the inside out. If someone wants to be serious with adult content, that's what the audience has to feel because otherwise they'll just go write on their blogs or twitter or Facebook or whatever they crap talk with these days and tell everyone they did n't have a good cathartic cinema experience. Is n't that what this is about? You know, um, dealing with these sensitive issues, cathartic Freudian concepts, in a way that bridges adult fantasies with the - look, you know what types of messages I'm all about because you can just go google it if you do n't and read about it because it's all there, it's always been there, and my movies make it abundantly clear about what I mean, but, uh, no I do n't really need to explain or rationalize what I mean about it, I do n't think I have to because I've already explained all this before. 
 
 But this movie, Maiden Dirigible, is, um, an allegory for all of these, I mean, all of what this is all about, about my stance on what really is going on in Hollywood, and with the abuse coverups, and, casting couches, and the whole, uh, sordid business, told through a love triangle in a Nazi Airship as it begins it's voyage across the Atlantic to burn New York with a death ray. And it's - yes, yes that's the story, but it's only a canvas - it's actually, see, uh, the secret Russian agent because you never see the Russian contribution to the spy efforts - a super-secret Russian agent whose orders are incorrectly decoded and he thinks he must woo the Vixen of Saxony, but he gets the wrong person. And then, like, a hermaphroditic british agent, who is trying to thwart the Russians, steals the orders and is also trying to woo the Vixen, but it's the wrong woman. The real vixen is only ever seen in the shadow, because the camera work will help paint a sexualized image of repression that oversees the love triangle. And the message here, um, the way I'm telling the story, and, see the difficult topics we have to face together and that I'm trying to start a discussion about is how, well, I'm going to use this very innovative technique of artificially increasing and decreasing body weight in direct proportion to the eroticism of the story. The more erotic, the more I want the actors to really just occupy as much of the screen as possible, and show the true intimacy of the flesh as it rolls and folds around itself because, you know, that's what love is. But you know that because how many times do I have to say I've already said this all before? Come on, I'm so tired of having to say this. 
 
 You can imagine this orgasm of actual flesh exploding onto the screen, because that's people really need to see to understand and address this problem of alternate energy and the complex dynamics at play in the Middle East. See, the death ray is democracy's erection that simply wo n't fit into any of the aroused and artificially inflated receptacles, no matter how hard they try - and it's that attempt, to coerce and cajole into trying it, that ultimately sets up the conflict here, because once the Ebola outbreak strikes, the real Vixen of Saxon emerges from the shadow and she's got these tentacles holding paper cups full of diet pepsi and necrotic flesh, and once they're done with the mentos she's going to toss the - yes, see, like I told you, the Ebola outbreak is a just a smoke screen because the necrotic pepsi flesh cups are symbolic of the fracking disasters wrecking our environment. And the camera work here will be very innovative because I designed these special cameras that can follow the undulations and micro-folds of copulating flesh because at this point you just ca n't really see anything anymore but sweaty pulsing lumps, and then, crack, the vixen smacks it with a whip and there will be this pulsing red line - cue the credits. And that line is what it's really all about, the emergent ideology that rises up against the literal fallacies of our own flesh, which I'm using to describe the impact the financial crisis on clean water in aids-infested tribal dinosaur dig sites. Then, from the quiet roll of credits is a symphonic skrillex tune and the actors deflate to their original sizes and we see that for all of their fornicating they have weighed the airship down so much it never made any progress, because that's what this is really all about - directly addressing important messages like this is a clear and meaningful way.
