Flower of Flesh and Blood

Rating: 6/10

 

 

Dante's monster's blossoms form, Upon the field of reason. To breach Hell's gates within the storm, And take thy gift in lesions. For betwixt the body and holy forms, There gapes the sound of treason's will. With Heaven's arms blossoms outstretched born, A break of the hollow in death, death's killed. I open each gate and follow them in, Using only what I have found. Til blossoms become them puddling sin, And pleasure escapes in the sound. Each look we give transposes truth, With Hell's own pallid vaneer. This pin through eyes still staring can, Catch that light as it appears. Unmend the darkness betrothed. Til dancing flowers upended may, Brings pleasure for pain in the mote, Hell keeps you know longer And life has no sway. In every blossom therein hides, A minion of the devil who can surmise. That we as mortals could not do, What must be done to break on through. But I have shown with every cut, That I am here for you as such. And once all dross has fallen from thee, I'll open the door and you'll fly free. Tracing the map are the angels above. Testimonies, flowers of flesh and blood.

A poem amidst a backdrop of abrasiveness and cold decisive science,
Flower of Flesh and Blood spells the significant dislocation of spirit
from the body, and the mind's quest to discover the formless within the
form at it's most brutal conceptualization. The angry devout devoid of
understanding and angry with their sense of being neglected, strikes
out against the only thing it can, the flesh.

This is one way to interpret the film, but I'm sure there's much
simpler interpretations which are possibly more fitting to the film.

But who's to say? Flower of Flesh and Blood talks of Hell which
validates at least part of my interpretation. The dichotomy, and search
for a resolution is at the heart of the film. The killer/artist
intellectualizes a escape for the spirit by the destruction of the
physical form, while making it a pleasurable experience to the victim,
or at least in his mind he sees this as a viable alternative to the
risks of eternity in hell. He creates the blossoms to express the
spirit and allow it favor in Heaven after death.

What then is the collection? A sense of control or a sick sense of
bragging over the gift that one has received at the hands of the
artist? Would he then think of these collection pieces as one might
think of birthday cards? Or a testament? Who's to say? One thing is for
certain. The flesh is fragile and watching this movie made me
incredibly aware of how I use this body. The fingers, speaking their
own semaphore language of hope and expression. This movie might leave
you thinking, or it might leave you bewildered, but no matter what it
won't leave you quickly.

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