It's been a strange year for films in the sense that I don't think I've been truly impressed by any single one of them. Sinners had great sound and visceral energy but ultimately seemed a little confused about what sort of film it wanted to be. Sentimental Value felt like a wonderfully executed Bergman pastiche. One Battle After Another is not even a top 5 Paul Thomas Anderson film. Hamnet tried too hard. Quite honestly, if it were up to me, I'd give the Oscar to Train Dreams. Which, incidentally, nobody is even talking about anymore.
Instead, everyone is talking about Marty Supreme. Again, a very good film - but just how good, really?
Take a look at the running time. Why on Earth is it two and a half hours long? What is the dog story even doing here? Shave off 30 minutes at least, and you get a much better film.
Or let's consider Timothée Chalamet. A truly convincing performance that works well within the context of this breathless, highly entertaining film. The problem is - his acting remains remarkably depthless. And no, the last scenes did not fool me.
Overall, it just felt like this panic-stricken style of filmmaking (see Josh Safdie's previous film Uncut Gems) replaces real emotional content with attractive tension and never-ending anxiety. So much so that when something actually emotionally charged appears, like the honey story, it is no more than a technical anecdote. Worse, it feels empty.
So again - a fun film, an entertaining film, but also one that amounts to very little.
