Thrills, Spills, And Whatnot takes the subtle weirdness we saw in First Chapter making it an art project, and a damn good one. The film is like a trip through Dane Reynold’s memory banks through the last year, only it’s chopped up, spun around, obscured, and organized into a stream of consciousness that lasts thirtysix minutes, but stays with you for much longer. No parts, no sections, no sessions, no titles, plenty of wipeouts, a few dig rails, lots of messy noise, and an overall feeling that Dane does give a f—k. He seems to care more about creating art than he does about making the viewer think he can do airs—for better or for worse.