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Mauricio Pochettino said last month that he plans to take the U.S. national team to the semifinals of this summer’s World Cup. If that’s the case, he’d better buy tickets because there’s no way the Americans are getting to that game on the field.

In its two March friendlies, the U.S. was blitzed by Belgium 5-2 and Portugal 2-0. By way of comparison, Mexico played the same two teams, in reverse order, to draws.

But wait, it gets worse. Because from the smoldering ruins of that mess, Pochettino has less than two months to choose a roster for the World Cup, a tournament U.S. Soccer has been pointing to for eight years.

Yet the March friendlies raised more questions than they answered — and it’s too late to start over.

“Right now, it’s just not enough,” DaMarcus Beasley, a four-time World Cup player, told TNT Sports. “We want to see these players compet[ing] and creating chances and being hard to play against every single match. Right now, it’s not happening.”

Pochettino ran the March training camp like an audition rather than settling on a starting 11 and trying to win games. He experimented with Tim Weah at outside back, where he has played for his club teams, and tried unsuccessfully to shake Christian Pulisic out of a career-long scoreless streak by playing him as a striker.

But he seems unable to solve some of the core issues plaguing the team. The U.S., which hasn’t posted a clean sheet since September, has become an error-prone mess on defense, with Pochettino’s wide, attack-minded approach revealing a structural fragility that has left the Americans’ thin back line exposed.

Consider the two goals in the Portugal loss. The first came after a turnover at midfield that led to a lightning-quick counterattack and the second on a poorly defended corner in which the Americans kept seven players in the six-yard box, leaving João Félix all alone at the top of the penalty area.

Behind the defense, no one has stepped up to seize the starting job in goal. Matt Turner, so spectacular four years ago in Qatar, gave up as many goals as he made saves against Belgium. And while Matt Freese was markedly better against Portugal, that was just his 14th international start.

Those are just the lowlights of the myriad issues facing Pochettino’s team.

Pulisic, the talisman who was supposed to carry the U.S., has gone cold. He hasn’t scored for the U.S. since November 2024 and hasn’t scored for his club team, AC Milan, this year. So Pochettino used him as a No. 9 against Portugal, a role Pulisic has made clear he does not like.

Christian Pulisic, left, controls the ball during an international friendly against Portugal on March 31.

(Jared C. Tilton / Getty Images)

It didn’t work, with Pulisic extending his goal-less streak to 15 games for club and country.

Tyler Adams, the captain in Qatar, has been saddled by injury and hasn’t played for the national team since September; right back Sergiño Dest, who started all four games in Qatar, is also hurt; center back Tim Ream, at 38, suddenly looks his age; and Gio Reyna, who has been unable to win a starting job on three teams in two countries since Qatar, nonetheless keeps getting called to the national team with little affect.

In the middle of it all is Pochettino, the highest-paid coach in U.S. Soccer history, who, despite a stellar resume as a club coach, has failed to find a consistent winning formula on the international level. In its 18 months under Pochettino, the national team has gone 11-2-1 against teams outside the FIFA top 25 and just 2-7-1 against teams ranked 25th or higher, according to ESPN. It has also lost eight consecutive games to European rivals.

Guess which kinds of teams the U.S. will have to beat to get to the semifinals of the World Cup?

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, of course. After failing to qualify for the 2018 World Cup, the U.S. team was ripped down to its foundation and built anew. Interim manager Dave Sarachan was tasked with reconstructing a roster that had grown old and stagnant, and in his 12 months in charge he gave a record 23 players — including nine who made the team for the last World Cup — their international debuts. With an average age of 25, the squad in Qatar was the second-youngest World Cup team in U.S. history.

But Qatar was just a trial run. The real goal was to have a mature, experienced team ready for this summer when the World Cup would be played at home. A deep run could fuel the kind of transformation the 1994 tournament in the U.S. achieved.

Instead, the U.S. team has regressed.

“It feels like four years have gone down the drain,” said ESPN’s Herculez Gomez, another former World Cup player.

Fortunately, the U.S. was drawn into a soft group for the World Cup. And because the tournament’s expansion to 48 teams means just 16 countries will be eliminated in the first round, even a poorly built American team should advance.

But the semifinals? Not this team and not in this tournament. To do that the U.S. would have to be better than at least four teams on a list that includes England, France, Spain, Argentina, Germany, Morocco, Brazil and the Netherlands. We already know it’s not better than Belgium or Portugal.

It might not even win its group now that Turkey, a top 25 team which beat the U.S. 2-1 last June, has qualified. And a stumble early in the tournament would make the kind of deep run Pochettino promised that much more difficult.

“We are so close to the World Cup,” Pochettino said after the Portugal loss. “But I think we are intelligent enough to know what we need to do.”

Buy tickets was not supposed to be the answer.

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“I want to lick your stink … I want to taste your foulness … I want to shower in your rot … I want to feast in your fetid funk.”

Have more romantic sweet nothings ever graced the screen? Scripted by Grace Glowicki and Ben Petrie (partners in life and in filmmaking), these words of seduction are music to the ears of a lonely Gravedigger (Glowicki), who has been formulating a perfume to cover up her corpse-like stench. What she discovers is that the right one will love her exactly the way she smells, learning that she’s not so pheromonally challenged after all.

Glowicki’s sophomore feature “Dead Lover,” sometimes presented in “Stink-O-Vision,” is one of those entirely singular freakouts that we can thank Telefilm Canada for subsidizing (see also: the Cronenberg family oeuvre, Matt Johnson’s current “Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie” and many more).

She co-writes, directs and stars in this highly stylized, wonderfully DIY handmade project, beautifully designed with gruesomely gothic sets by production designer Becca Morrin and art director Ashley Devereux. The blend of intentional artifice paired with deep emotion calls to mind other Canadian auteurs like Guy Maddin and Matthew Rankin (“The Twentieth Century”), but Glowicki’s film also exists within another lineage: the feminist Frankenstein film.

The film opens with a quote from Mary Shelley: “There is something at work in my soul which I do not understand.” Her 1818 novel “Frankenstein: or, the Modern Prometheus” has always been a feminist text (despite Guillermo del Toro’s more bro-ey adaptation), grappling with the terrifying power of creating life — and how close that is to death. Feminist filmmakers have drawn out these inherent themes from the book, the most recent and loudest example being Maggie Gyllenhaal’s “The Bride!” But “Dead Lover” hews closer to Laura Moss’ modern medical take, “birth/rebirth,” and even more closely to Zelda Williams’ cute, poppy “Lisa Frankenstein,” in which a young seamstress stitches up a reanimated boyfriend.

Our Gravedigger speaks to us, and to the moon, about her heart’s desire in charming cockney rhyming slang. Her hopes are rather simple and conventional: one true lifelong love and a family. After much rejection, she finally finds her Lover (Petrie) in the cemetery, saving him from a ferocious beast while he mourns his late opera-singer sister (Leah Doz). After the pair consummate their fragrant lust, the Gravedigger is ready to settle down right away.

In order to make her dreams come true, Lover travels to Europe for fertility treatments, where he drowns on a ship, the only thing left of him a finger, delivered to her by fishermen. Our enterprising Gravedigger, a true woman of science, engineers a lizard elixir and regenerates the finger into a long tentacle that eventually demands a body. What better choice than his own sister? But when her wild new Creature (Doz) comes to life, all hell breaks loose, summoning the sister’s jealous, grief-stricken Widower (Lowen Morrow) into an unfortunate love triangle (or square?).

Glowicki is a terrific filmmaker, marshaling her tiny troupe to execute this unique project. Petrie, Doz and Morrow play multiple roles, including a gossipy Greek chorus and the band of merry fisherman (truly an astonishing array of Canadian accent work on display). Her commitment to her singular vision never wavers, but as an actor, Glowicki is truly astonishing. Caked in Halloween makeup and lit with an array of colored gels, Glowicki summons something primal, pure and deeply moving about the lengths one will go to for love, a screech from the depths of her gut.

With a dream-pop soundtrack by U.S. Girls that would be at home in an episode of “Twin Peaks,” “Dead Lover,” in all its stinky, sexy, queer and grotesque glory, is one of the grossest and loveliest films about love I’ve ever seen. This one’s for the horny, hopeless goth inside all of us.