Blue Valentine as interpreted by a twenty-something misogynist, then sprinkled with Sucker Punch. Deeply flawed, at times distasteful, but not irredeemable. The director deserves credit for putting together a good-looking film, with real action, on the super cheap. The lead is played by the writer/director which results in a lot of fantasy fulfillment: he sexes a bunch of women, he beats people up, etc. His character: a twenty-something who lives with his best friend in Hipstertown Los Angeles. They are both obsessed with Lord Humungus from Road Warrior (the movie starts with a quote from him: “Nothing can escape! The Humungus rules the Wasteland!”), and are therefore doomsday prep hobbyists, building a working flamethrower, a post-apocalyptic muscle car chariot named Medusa, and focusing very little on the pre-apocalypse. But don’t the wrong idea — they have the same kind of vibe that you’d get from the guys in Williamsburg who wear lumberjack shirts and sport affectations like fashion axes. The lead has a fling an LA woman who is on a roller-skating team (I might be making this up, but she is certainly that kind of chick) and who is into breaking the hearts of foppish LA dudes. Conflict, relationship back-and-forth, navel-gazing, flamethrowing, and pathetic misogynist behavior ensue. The director clearly shares something raw and real here and it’s not like much else out there. It falls apart in the second half with gusto, the way Lord Humungus would have wanted it.