Edmond ★★★½

Up until the last 20 minutes, I was fully on board with this descent in privileged white male anger, David Mamet's surreal, episodic script hits it off with Stuart Gordon's seedy noirish direction, scratching up against William H Macy's nebbish rage.

And then the film takes a turn towards what seems like sympathy for its misogynistic, racist caricature of Kevin Spacey in American Beauty. I'm not sure if Mamet's script gets on the titular Edmond's side, but it definitely muddles its stance, seemingly suggesting that maybe Edmond's bullshit rage comes from some version of a legitimate place - even as he seems to have evolved. I'm leaning towards the idea that Mamet and Gordon is attempting to find some level of profundity, a potentially useful aspect of Edmond's behavior, the idea that humans have a genuine and intuitive desire to good, however terribly that desire may present itself.

Whether or not Edmond ultimately condones its protagonists's privileged BS, it is still a darkly funny journey into hell.

Stuart Gordon continues to impress me in his later career.

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