“You don’t have a lot of time… and in reality, you don’t really have a choice.”
Or, Guy Ritchie’s The Matrix. Very much the longest movie ever made at only an impressive sub-two hours, but frankly that’s less a critique of the pacing and more a compliment towards how extraordinarily, incomprehensibly dense this monstrous, monstrous thing is. I can’t quite believe this exists, even less so that Guy Ritchie of all people produced it (though from another angle, it makes…
post-modern performance art - a capsule of a Great, Great, utterly demented performance from an earnest genius. revolting, beautiful, hilarious, confounding. and once more, let it be known - Great.
Very last screening of university! (Ignore the fact that I had to leave halfway through) (also ignore the fact I’ll probably do a masters eventually at some point in the quasifar future) Been a good time (generally) full of good people (generally) and good movies (generally)! Not quite onto the next chapter yet but a prelude to’t for sure. Movies, eh? Good shit, big fan. Yeah. Movies.
The most flagrantly, childishly, condescendingly cynical, dried-husk morgue-slab piece of frozen, stiff, smooth, edgeless faux-risqué pewter IP-peddling nostalgia-bludgeoning money-sucking Frankenstein vapidity yet inflicted on the willing mouths and eyes of the hollow lapdogs that push shit like this to £1bn regularly. Not to sound cruel (I’m kidding, I don’t give a shit), but my screening had people openly weeping by the end of this thing and I’m gonna be frank I earnestly can’t begin to think about what kind of…
