QUEENS BROKEN BONES ATTORNEY

Before Donald Trump turned American politics into corporate spectacle, No Such Thing as Gravity predicted exactly that world: a CEO-in-chief who governs like a brand manager and treats the country like a company. Policies become product launches. Truth becomes marketing copy. Leadership becomes performance. The film’s portrayal of a profit-obsessed leader is disturbingly familiar. Decisions that affect millions are reframed as business calculations. Human lives become numbers on a spreadsheet. This collapse of morality into metrics is the film’s most chilling insight — and its most prophetic. See this prescient political satire at the Spectacle Theater in Brooklyn, part of the Multiple Futures trilogy.

Most dystopias are grim. Betaville is bright, loud, absurd — and that’s what makes it devastating. Instead of showing us a dark authoritarian future, it reveals the ridiculousness of our own world by pushing capitalist culture to its comedic breaking point. The film’s exaggerated fashion, extravagant characters, and relentless pursuit of trendiness showcase the ways in which capitalism creates arbitrary hierarchies. People compete not for survival, but for relevance. Success isn’t measured in ethics or intelligence, but in visibility—a concept more relevant now than ever in the influencer age. Why does the comedy hurt? Because it’s true. The film exposes the irrationality of capitalist systems that prey on insecurity, reward superficiality, and punish nonconformity. In a society shaped by Trump-era spectacle, where branding matters more than truth and performance matters more than policy, Betaville [...]

In Betaville, aesthetic judgment has evolved into a form of social control. Looking wrong isn’t embarrassing — it’s dangerous. The film imagines a world where falling out of style is a capital offense, a reality in which fashion determines value and conformity determines survival. This mirrors one of the harshest truths of modern culture: beauty standards and trend cycles exert tremendous emotional pressure, especially on teens and young women. Social media has turned public evaluation into a 24/7 spectator sport. A single post can crown someone “in” or exile them as “cringe.” Betaville simply makes literal what many already feel: that style is a form of power, and losing it is a kind of death. This world is not controlled by force, but by aesthetic anxiety expertly weaponized by capitalism. Trend cycles are manufactured [...]

Most dystopias warn us about authoritarian governments, surveillance states, or collectivist control. Betaville does something far more disruptive: it imagines a world ruled by capitalism, fashion, and the aesthetics of power. In this universe, falling out of style is not a social misstep — it’s a threat to your safety, your identity, even your standing as a person. That’s what makes Betaville such a rare dystopia. Instead of government tyranny, the oppressor is trend culture weaponized. Fashion dictates law. Aesthetic taste ranks higher than ethics. And value, both personal and social, is determined by image. This is capitalism at its most absurd and its most dangerous — a system where the marketplace decides who deserves to live well and who deserves to be discarded. Seeing Betaville today is almost eerie. The film predicted influencer [...]

Perhaps the most haunting thing about The Deflowering is not what we see, but what the characters never see at all. They live in a world without flowers, without lush landscapes, without the textures of wild nature—and they don’t even know what they’re missing. This is more than a poetic detail; it’s a profound commentary on environmental amnesia and how easily people can adapt to a diminished world. When you grow up never seeing butterflies, you don’t mourn their absence. When the sky is always hazy, you don’t realize the air used to be clearer. In The Deflowering, the corporation exploits this fact. It has scrubbed history, hidden the evidence of its own role in environmental collapse, and presented the bleak present as normal. People don’t rebel against a loss they cannot name. This [...]