the trauma that is... milk?

Okay, so maybe not quite. It wasn't just the milk. (Although one of my most traumatizing memories is of the time when my parents forced me to drink An. Entire. Glass. The tears that ensued...) It was more... the tables of naked women? 

Have you guessed what I'm talking about yet?

A Clockwork Orange, of course!

Looks appealing, right? Erika and I had heard that it was "a classic"- who decides these things, anyway? Is it completely arbitrary?- so we decided to watch it...

"Is this really happening?" was the most frequently question asked. (If any of you have seen it, you probably know what I'm talking about.) From the very beginning (CREEPY STARE- had I ever desired to wear false eyelashes, I most certainly no longer do- he did have pretty blue eyes though. How is that fair?) to the ending (carnage and rape and pillage, oh my!) it was chaotic and confusing...

and also strangely lovely.

Although I might not agree with every(any)thing that happened in it, it was definitely chock-filled to the brim (yay for mixing metaphors) with symbolism and imagery. The director did a wonderful job portraying an corrupt society (although I could have done without the rather phallic art) and the insanity of it all was quite compelling. 

One thing I know for sure: I will never listen to Singin' in the Rain quite the same way. 

Have you seen it? Do you have any movies that you feel this way about?