I guess it’s the same reason people are drawn to egotism; with a movie seemingly so absorbed in itself, it’s hard not to fall in love with it. But taking this movie apart, assessing and reassessing every technique used is now futile and irrelevant as it is far less important than seeing it whole. A Tenenbaum-esque frame of mind has come over me, with hints of Margot, a subtle Chas rage, and a whole lotta Richie to top it all off.
No, I don’t associate with the dysfunction- it’s just that movies like this make me feel glad that movies exist (haha, still Kael’s essay). In the darkness at the movies, nothing is asked of us and we are left alone, it’s the liberation from duty. And that’s one comforting thought I can live with. So let’s shag ass!