Synecdoche, New York ★★★½

What was once before you - an exciting, mysterious future - is now behind you. Lived; understood; disappointing. You realize you are not special. You have struggled into existence, and are now slipping silently out of it. This is everyone's experience. Every single one. The specifics hardly matter. Everyone's everyone. So you are Adele, Hazel, Claire, Olive. You are Ellen. All her meager sadnesses are yours; all her loneliness; the gray, straw-like hair; her red raw hands. It's yours. It is time for you to understand this.

Self-reflexive concepts fold in upon one another partially collapsing under the immense strain they create. Yet, individually, they are deeply resonant; speaking to the deepest parts of life - existence, love, loss, loss of who you are, loss of who you love. A flawed masterpiece.

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