04-04-2015, 11:33 AM
If ever a turd could develop an ingrown toenail, Synecdoche New York is it.
It’s bleak, interminably terminal (like its main character played by Philip Seymor Hoffman), steeped in a pathos dripping tears.
A third of the way through, I desperately wanted to fast forward. But I forced myself to sit through it.
Mostly. I paced fitfully the last 15 minutes.
"What happened?" Lady Cranefly called from her room when I shouted, “Fuck!”
“Credits,” I grumbled. Finally.
Yes, it’s on the 366weirdmovies list. Maybe it belongs there, because it goes in a pretty oddball direction. But who would want to watch such a thing?
Apparently a lot of critics. True, there was a wide split among them. But it’s chilling to see how many put this on their best of 2008 list, or best of the decade. One organization placed it 80th on the all-time best movie list.
Fuck!
The film failed at the box office. Most viewers shared my reaction. I've liked Charlie Kauffman's work as a screenwriter (Adaptation, Being John Malkovich, etc.). But his directorial debut leaves me angry. It reminds me of art done by autistic people: densely intricate, but not really saying anything. (Though I’m sure there are exceptions among them.) And it seems so bloody self-pitying!
Once more, fuck! And fuck Ebert for his 4 out of 4.
It’s bleak, interminably terminal (like its main character played by Philip Seymor Hoffman), steeped in a pathos dripping tears.
A third of the way through, I desperately wanted to fast forward. But I forced myself to sit through it.
Mostly. I paced fitfully the last 15 minutes.
"What happened?" Lady Cranefly called from her room when I shouted, “Fuck!”
“Credits,” I grumbled. Finally.
Yes, it’s on the 366weirdmovies list. Maybe it belongs there, because it goes in a pretty oddball direction. But who would want to watch such a thing?
Apparently a lot of critics. True, there was a wide split among them. But it’s chilling to see how many put this on their best of 2008 list, or best of the decade. One organization placed it 80th on the all-time best movie list.
Fuck!
The film failed at the box office. Most viewers shared my reaction. I've liked Charlie Kauffman's work as a screenwriter (Adaptation, Being John Malkovich, etc.). But his directorial debut leaves me angry. It reminds me of art done by autistic people: densely intricate, but not really saying anything. (Though I’m sure there are exceptions among them.) And it seems so bloody self-pitying!
Once more, fuck! And fuck Ebert for his 4 out of 4.
I'm nobody's pony.
