Lodge Kerrigan's Clean, Shaven

Each week, Drew creates a watchlist with film recommendations provided by you, the tnmn community.

Last week’s category: fast-paced movies. The results are posted to our website and Letterboxd account every week. Due to technical difficulties, this week’s list is only posted on Letterboxd. Next week, we’ll return to our regular format.

This week’s category: director debuts. That is, your favorite debut feature-length film from a director. Reply to this email with your submission and why we should watch it. We’ll feature it in next week’s newsletter.¹

¹ If your submission doesn't comply with the category, I’ll start a grassroots movement to make Crocs cool. I’ll start with the kids by creating some kind of cheap, dumb collectible element. Like a charm you can put on top of your shoes to “personalize” them. I’ll create thousands of charms, capitalizing on beloved children’s activities, stories, and characters. These charms will be positively irresistible, very small, and entirely too easy to lose.

Then, I’ll infiltrate children’s mindshare through places like YouTube Kids, the unmarked white van of kids’ media. I’ll partner with kid influencers to promote the new charms, and I’ll build a multi-hundred-million dollar business out of it. Say, $271m, or 8% of the Croc brand’s revenue in 2024. It will be massive.

And your kids will beg you to buy them. You’ll be very confused, because you know that Crocs are inherently uncool. You’ll know this to your core. But I’ll have successfully engineered a societal shift and they will be cool — and you’ll have no choice but to buy these charms for your kids. And I’ll call the charms something annoying that doesn’t mean anything. Like Jibbitz™.

I’ll even run on-the-nose marketing campaigns, like Croctober, to encourage more shoe charm collecting, more quickly. And then — wait, what? Are you fucking kidding me?

2006: Crocs acquires Jibbitz™.
2024: CNBC: Crocs’ big bet on personalization paid off.
2025: Press Release: Crocs Elevates Fan Dreams This Croctober, One Step at a Time

The threat for this week has already been carried out and I have been living under a rock. Please follow the category.

A spoiler-free description of the movie.

A man suffering from schizophrenia attempts to find his daughter.

If you like these things, then you’ll like the film.

→ The bad guy from The Mask.² I’ll never forget the look of virginal pride on my brother’s face when he confirmed that the lead actor in Clean, Shaven was in fact Peter Greene – the bad guy from The Mask.

→ Sound as a storyteller. This is one of those movies with really noticeable, masterful sound editing.

→ Deeply troubled individuals. There’s no Hollywood sheen on this one. This is the story of a sick man and it is quite bleak.

² I googled “bad guy from The Mask” – the results of which I under-examined to a criminal extent. My investigation began with a visit to villains.fandom.com to a page about Dorian Tyrell, the bad guy from The Mask.

The page is quite organized — you’d be forgiven for thinking this was a biography for a real, live criminal. There’s a right-rail table listing the fictional character’s full name (Dorian Tyrell), alias (Boss), occupation (former right-hand man of the crime kingpin of Edge City, former manager and supervisor of the Coco Bongo night club, briefly the new crime kingpin of Edge City), powers/skills (Cunning, Manipulation, Trickery, Leadership, Intimidation, Hand-to-hand combat, High Master Intelligence, Gunmanship, Charisma, Access to the Mask of Loki and its superhuman powers), goals, crimes, and villain type (Vengeful Crime Lord). The page also lists his notable quotes, including this zinger (in all-caps): “I'M JUST AN EX-EMPLOYEE, WHO HAS COME FOR HIS BACK PAY, OR SHOULD I SAY PAY BACK!” Fuck yes, Dorian. Fuck, yes.

There’s a lot to see here. But something about reading that Dorian Tyrell’s second occupation — his stint in management at the Coco Bongo night club — really struck me. There must be an actual place called Coco Bongo. There is. There are, actually, several locations. The Puerto Plata location ranks #9 of #34 among other nightlife entries on TripAdvisor.

I now present to you highlights from a real 4-star review from Kingston, Canada native Reviewer C., entitled “Stunning opulence”:

“Now converted to ‘club 46’, as soon as you enter, you are greeted by the chill of powerful air conditioning – misleading, as it masks the fiery spice of the night ahead...

…Bartenders are responsive; unlike dreary North American barkeeps who are mere servants of convention and charge the same amount per drink to each patron, those at this venue have a flair for the dramatic. The manner in which they simply attribute a price, ranging from $3 - $15, to each individual is among the most exciting games of chance one can play in the Dominican Republic…

…Let’s begin with the DJ…he is of course equipped with a large truck horn, although I must say this one is not as strong as the one at [sic] neighbouring Route 66 (admittedly, Route 66 is a smaller venue, and the horn carries more easily)…

…As the locals say: “Nada moja una mujer como el sonido de una bocina de un camión que se acerca” – “nothing makes a woman wet like the sound of an approaching truck horn”. And, indeed, the women were thirsty (note that this phrase is used figuratively in the erotic context; they were [sic] of course, thirsty due to the lack of drinking water available, but that is a matter for another review)…

…The highlight of the evening came when I approached a local woman, Maria, glimpsing in the grins of those nearby the encouragement usually reserved for children. Maria politely smiled and laughed and gave no sign of noticing my [sic] lumbersomeness, and then, out of lust or professionalism, she turned her back to me and gyrated her rear-end against my thighs in rhythm with the rapid jingling soca that now replaced the American pop, the Dj shouting “All you wine! Wine that boom-boom!”

…an especially grave phase of the evening had been entered. Maybe it had. The soca tinkled and blared. Solidarity with the locals around me surged through me. Emboldened, I gave into the situation and its happiness – gave into the song, to the rums and Coca-Colas, to Maria’s smooth skillful movements, to the suggestion by my friends that we go on, after the dance, to the playa, to some further place; to the Red Bull ordered at the bar; to the celebration [sic] a random man’s birthday; to the sparkling water [sic] drank in the fresh air outdoors; to the idea that we find some taxi driver to take us back to the hotel; to the anticipation of the sunrise bringing a new day to the Dominican Republic…

…So yeah, like, I had fun.”

I think I’m done here.

What I liked about it.

Writer-director Lodge Kerrigan’s Clean, Shaven is a well-acted fever dream of a character study, punctuated by a killer sound edit and an all-time performance from Peter Greene.

If you watched this film with my brother, you’d know when the film was over when you heard him incessantly celebrating: “I knew it! It WAS the bad guy from The Mask!” Bravo, Drew. Bravo.

The soundscape in Clean, Shaven is a panic-inducing, crunchy doorway into the lead character’s mind.

It’s been some time since I’ve watched a film where the sound edit does this much heavy lifting.

The plucky-guitar-led score is sparse — making much room for a symphony of noise driving the lead character mad.

Floorboards creak. Porcelain clinks. Newspapers crunch. Radios emit static. Towels dry skin to the tune of sandpaper on wood. Whispers permeate any promise of comfort or quiet. It’s all quite visceral.

Peter Greene turns in a manic, paranoid performance that belongs in the best-of-the-best conversations for portraying schizophrenia onscreen.

He brings a fidgety physicality to the performance that, paired with his wide-eyed steady line delivery, is simply disturbing.

Cinematographer Teodoro Maniaci works his grainy lens close in to his subjects, no matter whether the target is jittering hands, a strange spot on the wall, or a wet tomato being slapped onto a ham and cheese sandwich.

It all gives the impression of environmental overwhelm. That the man at the center of the film is living in an impossibly torturous environment.

Kerrigan’s script is the sort of understated, entrancing piece of work I’d love to see more of in the modern era of filmmaking.

What I admire most about it: he clearly believes in his audience — that they don’t need a lengthy exposition so long as the story is compelling. The result is a horrifying, psychotic collapse of a film that is bound to stay with you as surely as the lead character will hear voices in his head.

But, perhaps most importantly, if you ask Drew: it has the bad guy from The Mask in it.

Enjoy the film.

A fact or two about the production that makes you say “oh, neat.”

→ The film was inspired by one of director Kerrigan's college friends, who was diagnosed with schizophrenia. In Kerrigan’s words: "I was tired of the way mental illness has been portrayed in the movies, which have by and large been so inaccurate. [He wanted to portray] the kind of anxiety they live with on a day-to-day basis." The film's tiny budget — between $60,000 and $70,000 — forced it to be shot over the course of two years.

→ A robbery scene was mistaken for a real crime by police. Neighbors called the police. When Kerrigan heard there was trouble, he rushed outside. The police had an actor down on the ground with five guns pointed at him; the same actor who had been using a shotgun in the robbery scene.

One great line of dialogue from the film.

tnmn is member-supported. Right now, the very best way to support us is to contribute to our tip jar or share us with a friend.