As the Men on Film Podcast account recently pointed out on X.com, both the 1998 Hype Williams film Belly and Bertrand Bonello’s newly released The Beast feature brief, film-within-film moments in which characters view and are perturbed by works of Harmony Korine. Hype Williams’ Belly sees DMX’s character absent-mindedly throw on a scene from Gummo for a bewildered Nas, while The Beast sees a visibly unsettled Léa Seydoux encounter a short excerpt from Trash Humpers on the web. Now, these instances could easily be written off as superfluous—leftfield, in-film references for the sake of references—but perhaps they point to something more.

To me, this parallel indicates how prolific Korine’s output has been, how far-reaching and how impactful his artistry is. Think about it: two far-removed filmmakers working at different time periods and in different corners of the world both thought to include actual snippets of Korine’s films in their own films—not subtle nods to Korine, but actual footage of his works. These directors also make a point to depict their characters actually *reacting* to Korine.

I would also posit that these two film-in-film moments demonstrate contemporary methods by which Korine’s works can be processed—and maybe hint at the manner in which they are *best* processed. Think about it: are we meant to be sitting through something like Trash Humpers with our analytical minds switched on? Or are we better off digesting some of Korine’s films in snippets, and simply letting ourselves be perturbed? We are peoples of the TikTok era, after all, and our attention spans are at an all-time low. Meanwhile, our mad desire for seeing things truly provocative—truly flabbergasting—seems to be at an all-time high. And this brings us to Korine’s latest, the truly gabber-flasting AGGRO DR1FT.

Presented under the banner of Korine’s new “EDGLRD” production company, which has been dabbling in video games, skateboarding, and surreal Boiler Room DJ sets, DR1FT arrives weaponized to infect the screens of the TikTok era. It has its all-infrared gimmick, a confounding appearance from Houston rapper Travi$ Scott, and a perpetually mask-adorned, predictably obstinate Korine running around doing promotion, claiming that the project isn’t a film but a “vibe.” The technology that went into creating the AI imagery that flits throughout the movie also allows DR1FT to be continually updated and altered, meaning one screening could look different from the next.

So, let's give this movie its due up front: its rollout has undoubtedly captured attention; its makeup is unquestionably sui generis. And while the film has yet to secure a wide distributor, it will inevitably find another life as it hits the “web” and becomes the IP of the masses. I think the project will play great as a “remixed” YouTube video, or reduced to images and text on some "AGGRO DR1FT Out of Context" Twitter—sorry, “X”—account. But in its more traditional context—its "vibes over narrative" context, its movie-merged-with-video game context (or whatever Korine is labelling it these days)—it's a pretty mind-numbing viewing experience. I think this might actually be a film that lowers your braincell count.

Infrared and AI-generated imagery aside, I don't think AGGRO DR1FT represents an altogether surprising turn from Korine. What we have here is basically Trash Humpers ver. 2. Swap the VHS home video aesthetic for the infrared, swap the impish, geriatric mask-wearing degenerates for demon mask-wearing crime lords, and swap a desolated Nashville for a phantasmagoric, searingly red, blue, yellow, and purple Miami, and you have essentially the same project, Korine gathering a small gaggle of disparate professionals and non-professionals and having them play-up some inane antics for the camera. Like in Trash Humpers, the actors of AGGRO DR1FT often acknowledge the camera. They play to the camera, like extras in a rap music video. With its ever-present, droning soundtrack by araabMUZIK—a constantly looping and drumless affair, which never "drops" a beat, mind you—DR1FT could be considered an extended music video.

This last point makes DR1FT sound more akin to 2012’s Spring Breakers, a Korine project that also emphasizes the demonically repetitive, insistently monotonous trappings of pop music-based enterprises. If you remember those late scenes in Spring Breakers with Franco's Alien brandishing guns for the camera and saying "spring break forever" over and over (and over) again, you basically know what to expect with AGGRO DR1FT in terms of its content. But the repetitions in DR1FT are stretched to even more bludgeoning extremes. And the dialogue feels more... childish. Most of the lines sound like phrases a child would ascribe to the film's characters if they were action figures in their sandbox. (Is Korine out here trying to prove just how baby-brained the pop world really is?)

If you need a “plot” explained to you (though I would think Korine would say you don’t), the film concerns a beleaguered and malaise-ridden assassin named BO (Jordi Mollà), his wanderings through a psychedelic, crime-ridden Miami, and his ennui-inflected reflections on his role in “society” as a killer. Believe it or not, a sort of Malick-ian tone emerges as we follow BO, as Korine parses out his internal monologues via voiceover in (clumsy) poetic fashion. If this makes any sense to you, think of DR1FT as baby-brained The Thin Red Line… on acid (because why not). Given BO’s proclivity for trying to justify or make sense of his profession for the audience, you might even say that DR1FT stands as Korine’s response to Fincher’s recent The Killer. Like in The Killer, we even spend a substantial amount of time in the mundanity of the killer’s daily life. (Were it not for the infrared filter, much of this movie would be quite drab and inert.)

After the opening kill scene of AGGRO DR1FT, the film abruptly switches gears and juxtaposes the violence of BO's career with his innocuous (but oddly softcore porno-coded) home life. We see him playing with his children and putting them to bed, all while he tries to convince us via overlaid narration that violence should never enter a child's life. But considering the opening scene, the film’s entire presentation, and the fact that his children are literally shown playing with toy guns, BO's narration comes to take on ironic quality. If I had to try to articulate what Korine is "getting at" with this film, it's somewhere in this irony. Given that BO's main adversary also has a legion of miniature brood who follow him around, I have to think I'm on to something. Maybe it all boils down to “play begets violence,” or, “violence is just another form of play.” Maybe this explains Korine’s fascination with the video game medium.

But are we really supposed to engage with this film in such an analytical manner? Does Korine want us to? Does Korine even care? Or should we just take these children to represent Korine himself? Because it seems to me like AGGRO DR1FT is the result of Korine simply playing, fucking around. But instead of toy guns, Korine has infrared photography, music by araabMUZIK, and Travi$ Scott. He mashes these things together like a mad 8-year-old, whose idea of a crime lord is someone chanting "dance bitch!" over and over (and over) again in a silly, guttural voice. And that's the DR1FT, baby—maybe it's literally nothing more than that.

Do I think you absolutely *need* to experience this movie? No. Do I think you need to start looking up “#AGGRODR1FT” on TikTok? Also no. But maybe one day, when you’re on your phone and you’re doomscrolling through the hellscape that is our modern, digitized world, you might just stumble upon a sinister snippet from this movie and be perturbed. And somewhere out there, Korine will probably think to himself, “Mission accomplished.”