George Kuchar

Famed for his early outr melodramas with unforgettable titles like Hold Me While I'm Naked and Pussy on a Hot Tin Roof, Kuchar was adopted as a hipster court jester by the 60s Avant Garde film crowd. These 8mm and 16mm experimental gems influenced a generation of campy outsiders, the most notable being John Waters who has never sought to hide his debt.

For the past 20 or so years Kuchar has continued to plough his own particular furrow with an unending torrent of video work. Sometimes working alone, sometimes with the help of his willing students and the San Francisco art school where he continues to teach, Kuchar has managed to produce an astoundingly vast body of work. Scatological, sometimes sacrilegious, always joyously irreverent and formally inventive, this video work remains mostly unknown to UK audiences.

100% Pure Beef Unleashed! will offer the opportunity to catch up with a small fraction of Kuchar's later output. Described by film historian Gene Youngblood as 'one of the great artists in the history of the moving image' Kuchar's videos have to be seen to be believed.

Weather Diary 3 (1988)

George turns Storm Chaser (or Storm Squatter as he prefers) in this, the third of his weather diaries. Closeted up in his rural motel with only his good looking young neighbour Mike for company, George enjoys his daily showers, his hotdog suppers and his TV weather reports. This confessional diary video probably has more in common with Kenny Everett than Jonas Mekas, with some proto-Gillian McKeith turd inspection thrown in for good measure. 100% Pure Beef Unleashed.

Metropolitan Monologues (2000)

George is back in his hometown of New York, visiting friends, annoying his mother, casting for his new play. Discover the worlds of celebrity cooking magazines, avant garde film screenings, and learn some rather unsavoury gossip about Baywatch's Yasmine Bleeth whilst you're there.

The Stench of Satan (2000)

In this class movie, made in the fall semester of 2000, George and his students deliver a high octane horror (or museology satire?) with production values Ed Wood would have killed for. Some hot young art historians get more than they bargained for on a curatorial visit to Egypt...