I flossed too hard this morning and I can still taste the coppery residue of swallowed blood in the back of my throat. I used Listerine afterwards and my mouth feels like it’s on fire but I manage a smile to no one as I step out of the elevator, brushing past a hung-over Wittenborn, swinging my new black leather attaché case from Bottega Veneta.
Alright, so none of that was actually me. Fans of “American Psycho” will readily know that those are the words of Patrick Bateman.
While surfing the site recently (apologies for the ’90s internet slang, for whatever reason “surfing” was the first verb that sprung to mind), you may have noticed a pop-up asking to subscribe to the newsletter we’re rolling out. Since we’re doing some A-B testing on the image, you would’ve either seen Anton Chigurh from “No Country for Old Men” or Patrick Bateman asking for your email …
… And it wasn’t until I wrote that last sentence that I realized just how creepy that seems. Excellent! Metaflix isn’t trying to be the next IndieWire, folks. We want to swing our balls–or ovaries, depending on who’s writing–around and really liven up the digital media world dedicated to cinema.