The Heaven Of Habit

Love is a dirty business. The lack of love even dirtier. You can scrub and sing all day until your skin is as red as a valentine. But they will never return. This same body that moved them to tears, this same body that warmed them… is now frozen inside a song.

Ex-American G.I returns to Germany after 20 years to make a film and oddly enough winds up homeless on the streets of Berlin. While there, he ends up discovering secrets about himself and his past family history.

"It's All True...It's All True...It's All True!"

Duncan and Scheimberg with no money, no time, no script, and with one barely working camera, have tried to create a poetic look at loneliness in America. And by poetic I mean desperate, sad, cruel, and funny and by loneliness, I mean total self-absorption and rampant solipsism, and by America, I mean, everywhere. People will, more than likely, not relate to this film. They will feel infinitely superior to the trashy losers, mama’s boys, and genuinely evil mind-fuckers that populate this film. So… that’s something. It’s a start… Right?

"I'm Sure You're All Wondering, What Kind Of Project This Is. A Film?...A Play?...An Event Of Some Sort? Well, Fuck You! Because You Don't Get To Know That Yet...You're Not Even Human Yet...You're Just Three Filthy Dead-Eyed Animals Waiting To Be Slaughtered As Far As I'm Concerned. Any Questions?"

A Podophiliac Triptych By Phillip Lee Duncan.