Books or cinema? That is the question.
We will never experience another decade like the seventies. It truly was one of the most prolific junctions of broad spectrum creativity and don’t-give-a-fuck dramaturgy. While this is by no means a masterpiece, the sheer lunacy of it all is commendable: it’s a prime example of the kind of creative freedom that filmmakers were permitted, for better or worse. If only we could revive a fraction of the collective elan vital channeling through the film industry at that time.
The only commentary that this film successfully conveys is how shallow modern audiences have become. When I think of the truly authentic films that were overlooked this year in favor of this 2hr screensaver, my stomach drops. It’s well-constructed aesthetically with a great score, but is that really an accomplishment? Is a slight shift in approach to a worn out narrative really an achievement worthy of high praise? It’s not even a successful character study, if anything it’s merely a trailer of a half-realized cartoon character.