everything i’ve ever written is bad i’m sorry for doing it so often
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
The mental gymnastics we do to compartmentalize our ethical failures and maintain the comfort of normalcy rather than confront the horrors right in front of us. I love how it humanizes its targets not to make us empathize but to reveal their prevalence in daily life. I feel like most of the girlboss dismissals misunderstand the cynicism and futility of its conclusion. It’s a bit narratively shapeless and obvious but its lack of catharsis wrecked me.
Presents L.A. as the kind of nightmare it’s detractors fear it to be, where everyone is young, perverse, and gifted a range of emotions spanning from indifferent to apathetic. There is an unrelenting sense of anxiety here as our protagonist wanders down a rabbit hole. We know he needs to pay his rent and it's just one of the hundreds of things in the back of our mind waiting for it to come back and bite him in the ass.…
told by opie, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. stripped of vance’s dumbass politics, this is just a ghoulishly hollywood attempt at poverty porn. yet, for all its academy groveling bluster, it’s almost impressively inert in a dramatic sense. adams shows no underlying empathy for her caricature of an opioid addict; relying on constant exposition from other characters assuring us of her humanity while never actually showing it. a career worst for one of the best actors of her generation. as bad as you’ve heard.