Books or cinema? That is the question.
Answer: books
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.
I’ve been haunted by this masterpiece for over fifteen years. In many ways, it is the film that sparked my obsession with cinema.