Synecdoche, New York

Synecdoche, New York ★½

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I understand Synecdoche New York is beloved, a deeply deeply personal film for so many. And I don’t want to disrespect that at all (and big big love to PSH, I miss him dearly). But

At first it felt like Kaufman screaming ‘THEMES! THEMES! THEMES!’ into my ear, burying me in smug tropes and showy writing that gleams of someone who believes their own genius (maybe that’s why there’s only one known Virginia Woolf film adaptation. because this is far better suited for literature).

But as it came on, and the ending hit.

This is some of my worst fears and neuroses pictured. And what am I meant to do with this? What is here that leaves me with closure? To quote Caden, ‘how do you expect me to react?’ I don’t feel seen. I don’t feel held. I just feel cold.

I don’t like how this made me feel. I’m going to lie down.

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