You will have to love
the aesthetics. The static camera, the lack of on-screen emotions, the pale
colours. Otherwise, you will just get bored, confused, hysterical and wonder
when the whole thing is over – ‘And what was it about?’ Or, worse, ‘And what,
pray, did the director want to say?’
There is of course a
strong Beckettian edge to it, and post-war Vladimir and Estragon are hardly any
different from their contemporary versions. They don’t spill the truth – but
they imply it in a way so obvious as
to appear subtle. Like Inland Empire,
it’s a film whose message (and I do hate the word) is clear. It’s just that you
will never ever be able to put it into words. Rather, you reflect on it.
