dylan's a great subject for a screen test because of his lack of presence; he's a very distant, ironic person - he's given some of the strangest, worst live performances without blinking, and even his outbursts in don't look back don't feel very revealing. warhol casts his eyes, and just about only his eyes in shadow in a way i don't remember seeing before. but dylan also seems more irritable than anyone else i've seen in a screen test; he…
pretty galling that cronenberg is selling this piece of shit as an nft... whatever that even means.
it's got that repulsive digital look of a youtube video, with zero attempt made to compensate or compliment it. he must have thrown this together in an afternoon. and the actual content, obviously the most literal minded thing cronenberg's ever done; it's about as literal as it could possible be. you get it... he's embracing death! embracing, you know, his death... huh?
Again in Barry Jenkins' attempt to universalise his characters he carves out anything recognisably human, then expects our heart strings to be pulled by two of the worst, hollowest performances in recent memories. This is a truly vacuous, lazy film.
I am not one to use 'lazy' haphazardly, it's a term that's been broadened beyond recognition, but here, there is no better word. It's as if Jenkins bought so much into his own hype that he didn't feel he had…