
Like the Mount Rushmore of posters for movies starring minor crossover singer-actors, this weird-beard extravaganza is grandiose in its hirsute horribleness. The sweaty bandanna, Kris's shit-eatin' grin, those headphones connected only to each other rather than any noticeable music player--it's smokey-mountain surreal. More confounding: if this isn't a film about Siamese twins, where exactly are their bodies?
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