Film Enthusiast / Screenwriter / Mustache-haver
Los Angeles, CA
2 hours of sexist cringe, interrupted only now and again by Jimmy Stewart, to whom they decided to give the least sexist lines to and who's sheer unbridled sweetness pulls this movie up only just enough for me not to have turned it off halfway through.
Go ahead, tell me the 40s were just a sexist time and I should just overlook it. I'll be in the next room, watching His Girl Friday again.
It’s like Tommy Wiseau taught a class on filmmaking and Jeremy Seville flunked out. And also he’s racist, but he doesn’t think he’s racist, which is interesting because he knows what not being racist is but also he’s not that?
This movie made me dumber. Also I want to kill myself. Goodbye.