Review: Lolita (1962) made me feel creepy AF

Movies force you to sit in one place, be quiet, and watch them. That's the only way you get what they are telling you. I'm not saying you can't have fun yelling at the screen or sitting poolside having a beer while you project Jaws on your aunt's butt from your phone. You can do those things, but you're not watching a movie. I'm just talking about things so I don't have to talk about Lolita.

    Creepy McCreeperson (Mason) moves into a boarding house with a desperate lady (Winters) and her daughter Lolita (Lyon). The desperate lady has eyes for McCreeperson, mooning over his cultured college professor self. McCreeperson only has eyes for Lolita, though, and it's all very weird.

    Let's get this out of the way: Stanley Kubrick was a genius and a huge weirdo. He's dead and he can't fight back, so fuck his weird, abusive, and strange directing style. If his corpse were here, we could all let Shelley Duvall spit on it.

    That being said, this movie is brilliant at what it is trying to do and what it is trying to make you do is emphathize with a petophile. The whole time your mind says: McCreeperson is well named, he's a nut. But then he gets in weird situations where his desperate landlady corners him and there's a stray thought of "how's he gonna get out of this one?"

    A strong commentary on the fetishization of youth and lust and being alone, Kubrick's film should be watched simply to see how you can deal with it. Like it, hate it, the movie at least makes you form an opinion which is more than I can say about some movies.