Critic Reviews

While the results were probably never designed to win over his detractors, Trash Humpers is almost a perverted love letter to fans of his brand of unstable, fringe-y terror.

Defiantly unwatchable if occasionally transfixing, the film is essentially the home movies of three marauding burnouts.

Pity the festival-going fool who stumbles unawares into Harmony Korine's patently abrasive, deliberately cruddy-looking mock-documentary Trash Humpers. All others -- that is, those familiar with Korine's anti-bourgeois oeuvre and know what they're in for -- will have a glorious time.

Trash Humpers projects a cranky resignation to the world as it is; still, it's picturesque.

Not for the faint of heart or for those who like their films to have beginnings, middles, and ends.

If this is what passes for contemporary art terrorism, we’ll opt instead for something truly subversive--like genuine art

Idolized in some quarters and reviled in others, Mr. Korine, now 37, may be a bit long in the tooth for the enfant terrible act.

A often grim vaudeville parade of Nashville's oddballs and ne'er-do-wells.

In Trash Humpers, the latest slovenly, haphazard, is-it-a-travesty-if-it's-bad-on-purpose avant doodle from director Harmony Korine, three figures in rubbery old-age makeup do indeed mimic intercourse with Dumpsters.

With every project, he pops open the same trunkload of shtick and leaves everyone to argue over whether it’s art. It’s a win-win situation for Korine, who’s either a genius or a provocateur who’s succeeded in gaming his stuffy critics.