Dissatisfaction captured in cold, fluorescent lighting, cubicle framing, empty hallways, and dead machinery; drudgery defeated (delayed) by camaraderie, reignited by betrayal. This is what Office Space should have been: empathetic, intelligent, discomfiting to look at. The corporate purgatory that these women work in ignores them and consumes them, and it warps their priorities such that pieces of plastic becomes more important than their own rights and each other. The film understands that their dreams of escape aren't any better---marriage, stardom, promotion, it all ends up feeding the same machine that is eating away at their souls. It's in the smaller moments, outside of work, at their homes, where they connect, these smaller moments are where they are human again, where the living is done.

52 project: 55/52

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