I felt this deep down to my transmasculine bones. I've been eviscerated by this film. The isolation, trapped on an island of aggression with no outlet, constantly emasculated with no hope of reaching true light and power because of the established hierarchy. The daily Sisyphean struggle. The gaslighting, the madness, the inherent eroticism of the sea. Emotions crashing over and through you like a maelstrom of shit. And farts. Oh, the farts. Peck open my belly Robert Eggers, and find your film there, coiled around my bowels.
The final shot/reverse shot kills me. In one lighting queue and look between two characters, the film perfectly sums up the bittersweet nature of being other.
Every scene in this fills me with this warm rushing intensity of emotion, it's so fucking perfect and beautiful and I'm so grateful it exists.
A knife in the heart, indeed.
Look, not to be a contrarian or anything but just, no. There are moments that I enjoyed, particularly the art therapy scene which contained a line about Basquiat that gave me the big laugh, but mostly I felt myself rolling my eyes. It’s very dry humour I guess (?) but all of the “on the nose” bits just made me groan and cringe. It’s just not a film for me. It’s too long, it’s too muddled and cluttered with parts…
This is bad. The writing is bad. Conflicts arise and tensions build and then evaporate as plot threads are dropped left and right. Spinel is a terrible portrayal of someone with BPD. It’s a cartoon but if you’re gonna have that social commentary edge you have to commit to doing it right. This show is a mess. Positives are: it’s cool to see a musical I guess? It’s colourful?