Quinn Bailey’s review published on Letterboxd:
"We, on the other hand, are colonized by wankers. Can't even find a decent culture to be colonized by."
(with apologies to Steve G, who did this so much better)
Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose paradoxically having a movie you've been meaning to watch for years live exactly up to your expectations and undercut them at the same time. Choose gaping at the screen and muttering "Jesus, Ewan McGregor looks so fucking young". Choose feeling highly uncomfortable at how cool and energetic and stylish this movie about heroin withdrawal, poverty, and alienation is. Choose annoying your roommate by singing along with half of the songs on the soundtrack. Choose knowing about the baby on the ceiling scene for years yet still being fucking freaked out by it when it comes around. Choose your future. Choose life... but why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose something else.
And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got movies?