File under WTF. Clearly inspired by the work of David Lynch, this mega-experimental black and white film alternates between reality and fantasy. In reality, the single character appearing in the film spends time largely in his house and talking to no one but himself, cutting himself, dissecting goat heads, picking at his sores, humping a mannequin, and masturbating. Inside his head, we see what he's dreaming about: Dead animals, lactating large-breasted women, and general psychosis. Some call it two-plus hours of art, we call it corn! Incredibly pretentious and only marginally interesting.
James Fotopoulos has made some terrible movies, but none are quite so singularly awful as Migrating Forms, a film about a man (no name) who couples frequently with a woman (also no name) who bears an enormous cyst on her back -- literally, the size of her head. The pair has slow and grody sex several times, and in the interim, the man lies on a couch and hangs around in the bathroom. That's about it, and Fotopoulos even resorts to flashing black and white siezure-screens, buzzing, and other banal film school trickery to create a David Lynch-like atmosphere. It's all horrible, all the time.
This is my second attempt at suffering through a James Fotopoulos film, and though I hear he's capable of making real movies, this one will be my last for awhile. The story of a "lingerie model" (Debbie Mulcahy) and her men, this is a film where nothing happens. When something does happen, it's only hinted at, after a long, long wide shot that doesn't move for five minutes or more. One could try to guess that this is an avant garde attempt to make you feel the malaise and stillness of these loser characters' lives. Doesn't work. I only felt my own hatred for the movie.