Dr. Strangelove, Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love The Bomb

If I woke up tonight with a shaking gun pressed to my forehead and a weeping stranger standing over me, sweating profusely and asking me over and over again what my favourite film is, I don't know what I'd say. Because I don't have a favourite film - that's ridiculous. But there are probably five or six contenders that I'd jump to in the previously outlined situation. Dr. Strangelove is one of them. That's why I've painted the thing that I painted above.

So a pretty quickly thrown together image this week because I'm working on some other projects. But I think I'll come back to Stanley Kubrick soon. Because that guy definitely knew how to point a camera at stuff.