"Synecdoche, New York" is one of the most depressing movies I've seen in a long time -- we're talking anything Bergman to the 10th power -- therefore I recommend it wholeheartedly. Bleak and pretty brilliant.I saw it about a month ago and initially shrugged. After writing about it, though, I learned my feelings ran deeper. It's playing at the Robinson Film Center.
It's the anti-Christmas. Have fun!
But seriously, see it. It's as purely cinematic as movies get. You couldn't tell this story through any other medium.
It's no secret to my friends -- hey, I count at least two -- that I love a good downer. Why? I have my theories. So does my imaginary shrink. Here are the top five:5) It's evidence that I'm happier than somebody on Planet Earth.
4) I'm an enigma wrapped in shadow lost in confusion.
3) I'm obsessed with books and movies about self.
2) Sad movies are sources of existential renewal.
1) In the words of Le Frog from "Flushed Away," "I find everyone's pain amusing, except my own ... I'm French!"
I'm actually German and therefore have deep misgivings about Le Frog. That's why he's 100% right about me.
Posts
4 comments:
I will be seeing this one night next week. I cannot wait! I love a good downer...
Admirably (or pathetically) I make my friends sit through my annual "Depressing Flick Fest." This past February's lineup was "The Hours" followed by "Frida" (sad in its own way), and "The Pianist." I finished off the evening with "Requiem for a Dream." I am thinking the finale for 2009's lineup may have to be the Monica Bellucci flick, "Irreversible."
Good times...
You're a bad man, and that's why you're good.
hehehehehe...
Thank you for the compliment!
We saw this Sunday night and I must say there's way more here than a depressing film. Look deeper and you'll find inspiration to stop obsessing about little mundane events and live your life or it may be over before you've started seeing the big picture ... that we're all here "for a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a second". Deep analysis and examination takes precious time that can slip through your fingers and, in the end, you still don't have a name for your play.
Post a Comment