Three days in a man’s life as he suffers humiliation at work, unsuccessfully attempts to woo his dream girl, and finally succumbs to a lifetime of frustration and self-loathing, capping it off with a shooting rampage in a pumpkin patch full of children and holiday revelers. The real story, however, is found in the near-constant monologue of his subconscious, the insidious and pervasive chatter of his lizard brain as yet unfiltered by the frontal cortex. The running commentary on everything which enters Ivan’s field of vision offers a novel insight into the inner works of the modern male mind, and in so doing points to the connection between men’s innate insecurities and frustrations surrounding their sexuality and powerlessness, and the ubiquitous intolerance and violence of our patriarchal society. In MARRY, FUCK, KILL, Ivan has a cock and a gun; unable to use one, he chooses to use the other. It is a cautionary tale about the fate of humanity if we remain unwilling to look at the hard truths regarding just how deeply we are affected by the artificial constraints and burdens we place upon ourselves.
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