What’s Even Real? Harmony Korine & The Liquid Narrative of Life

What does creating art that embraces the ugly, the painful, and the absurd mean? Harmony Korine’s work answers that question with unmerciful honesty— and it has left an ingrained mark on my artistic soul.

Discovering Gummo at 14

As I watched and listened to a recent interview with Harmony Korine, I felt deeply understood by his words, accompanied by a deepened desire to create— so much so that I decided it was time to make an appreciation post for him. The first work I saw by Harmony Korine was Gummo (1997) on Putlocker when I was 14, along with my little brother Tommy, who was 10 at the time.

Gummo takes place in Xenia, Ohio, a town devastated by a tornado— compiled of vignettes featuring mostly the lives of troubled teens engaging in bizarre and often disturbing activities. The film explores themes of drug abuse, violence, mental illness, poverty, profanity, homophobia, sexual abuse, sexism, racism, suicide, grief, prostitution, and animal cruelty.

Gummo oddly moved me despite some of the repulsive scenes and blunt absurdity. It displayed the courage and ultimate freedom of creating art that confronts truth and pain without censorship by embracing taboo topics and unconventional styles with raw honesty.

Aesthetically, the film struck me; its grimy yet beautiful tones revealed a melancholic beauty that resonated deeply.

Bunny Girl (Acrylic on panel, 2015)

In tribute to Bunny Boy.

Bunny Boy (Gummo, 1997)

Shot of Bunny Boy, a mute adolescent boy who only wears bunny ears.

Why Critics Missed The Point

Though critics dismissed Harmony’s montage-style movie-making, which can appear jagged, non-linear, and random—the film holds a 40% score on Rotten Tomatoes— but I saw this style as innovative, bold, and rebellious—all qualities that ignite my soul and scream freedom.

After watching Gummo, my consumption of experimental and avant-garde films increased, starting with Korine’s other films. I remember watching Kids (1995) soon after, then Julian Donkey Boy (1999) hidden under a makeshift fort I built with my little brother, Tommy. Those films were a blessing and a curse to our childhood psyches, but nonetheless, my brother grew up to be a movie connoisseur— and, I’d argue, an interesting and well-rounded person.

One of the things I respect most about Harmony is the fact he spoke the truth—his truth.

Korines Liquid Narrative and Existentialism

In an interview with Hans Ulrich Obrist, Korine discussed how Spring Breakers became the shift to a more fragmented narrative style. He described the style as a “liquid narrative,” where things don’t begin or end; time is irrelevant. He spoke about his influence from gaming culture and his subsequent fixation on what was “even real.”

“You started to see that everything was just starting to become what I would call gamified, or the gamification of like entertainment. It felt like this singularity; this thing was starting to happen where it was all becoming a game. And then even maybe about 10 or 15 years ago, I started to think, probably during the spring breakers era, was like life is starting to feel like that, and then I was asking myself all these questions, and I was like, is any of this even real? Maybe this is a game,” said Harmony.

Korine’s vulnerability and existential questioning resonate deeply with me. In his confusion, I found validation— proof that I was not alone in grappling with distorted reality. Not enough people seem to experience this kind of disorientation; truthfully, I don’t wish it upon them, either. It’s a draining and taxing experience. But to hear these thoughts from another artist made me feel a rare sense of unity and connection, however distorted it may be.

Korines Impact on My Artistic Journey

In retrospect, I understand how Korine’s films I watched as a teenager, planted a seed in me—sparking the desire to confront the world and even myself, not in a technically polished way, but with raw honesty. His work allowed me to explore the messy, confusing parts of life and make art that refuses to conform, art that is experimental and true to myself. It’s a push-and-pull dilemma I work through all the time, but one that I hope to carry with me and see all the way through, even as I keep questioning what’s real and if that even matters.