Mea culpa

Those paying attention might have noticed that there has been nothing here to pay attention to. Verily, the blog is not dead. Without getting too disgustingly confessional, the reviews stopped because life picked up, and sadly even though I am now at the center of the film viewing universe, I have had the time and energy to see barely a thing. The languishment will end later this week, when I see High-Rise at the Tribeca Film Festival, but I wanted to catch up by way of confessing my thoughts on the films I have seen but not reviewed.

First and foremost is Room, since everyone seems to love it and it won awards. I will happily play the poop in the punch bowl. The film is tedious and awful – your average made for cable drama has more gravitas and narrative thrust than this ludicrous snooze. Oh I get it, we’re supposed to be so enamoured of the boy, and so into sharing his supposed sensory liberation, that the glaringly dubious aspects of this purported true story pass by as unnoticed as William H Macy’s presence. For instance, the woman and her son are held in a room locked with a four digit numeric pad. Given that it would take a few days at most to run through every combination, why exactly is she still trapped eight years later? Or why has she not tipped over the wardrobe and kicked out the skylight? Just so she could raise a really bad pint sized beat. I suppose the child’s point of view is intended to be charming, but his ersatz poetic Nasdat is incredibly twee and pretentious. Since there is no mystery as to the unfolding or resolution of the plot, we are left with little but sentimentality to provide interest. And that is not nearly enough.

Cosmos, Andrzej Zulwaski’s most recent (and, sadly, final) film, an adaptation of Witold Gombrowicz’s novel of the same name, was highly anticipated, mostly because of the director. Much to my chagrin, I slept through two thirds of the film, so hopefully my perkier and more knowledgeable fellow viewer will soon be contributing a review. I also dozed through the beginning of The Witch. (Rest assured that I am working to ensure that this does not turn into a trend). An over-rated but still decent supernatural chiller, the movie provides a gritty (if doubtlessly inaccurate) portrait of colonial nuclear family living, and has a climax that marries the ridiculous to the sublime while paying homage to Benjamin Christensen’s 1922 masterpiece Haxan. Worth seeing.

More to follow…

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