Garden State was Lame...
So I was sitting in those Grove Pacific Theatres seats telekenisisisisising mental messages to the screen, "Come on, Garden State, come the fuck on, where is it? Where is my profound epiphany about, like, the meaning of life? Why are you denying this to me, you contrived piece of shit, and blessing so many others?! Oh! Oh, you're almost there! I'm almost feeling something?! Could it be...OH NO! Killed it again!"
Meaning to say, Garden State was ok, gets an A in effort in being obviously targeted to post-high school suburban angst-az (yes angst-AZ).
Simplified with the Vickie LJ Entry System of Pluses and Minuses:
- Screaming in the rain. Screaming in the rain with other people. Surely, there must be some other way films can liberate their characters. And screaming into the metaphor of an infinite abyss for that matter? Surely, you jest!
- Airport departure scene. Enough said.
- The Soundtrack that's basically just any college kid's recent iTunes playlist, and soon to grace Urban Outfitters fitting rooms (no pun intended, for Christ's sake, I bought a bird-shit/bukkake-looking hat there just last week...).
+ Thievery Corporation, then again, used as they were walking into a home improvement store.
- The whole mental illness thang. Didn't even get to see seizures, frothing at the mouth, or any of the good stuff! Charity cases for affluent New England kids. Right.
- The emotionally numb thang until I met you. Enough said.
- Touching the dad's heart thang. Just... Que? Double QUE? QUE QUE?!?!
+ Natalie Portman was funny. So was the movie kinda.
- If I were to write a movie it would be EXACTLY like Garden State. That is not meant as a compliment at all.
+ Zach Braff probably did decently in his screenwriting workshop, that one in Santa Monica above French Connection or something.
------------------------------------------------
I guess it goes to show that Indie films can be formulaic as well...
I'm writing a paper on Steven Soderbergh's Sex, Lies, and Videotape, and noticed, what's up with all the 2 couples fucking each other psychological sex relationship "indie" dramas now? In the summer there was We Don't Live Here Anymore with Naomi Watts and this fall there's Closer with Jude Law and Julia Roberts. Grr, Oscar-hungry actors and psychology scholar screenwriting elitists!
Meaning to say, Garden State was ok, gets an A in effort in being obviously targeted to post-high school suburban angst-az (yes angst-AZ).
Simplified with the Vickie LJ Entry System of Pluses and Minuses:
- Screaming in the rain. Screaming in the rain with other people. Surely, there must be some other way films can liberate their characters. And screaming into the metaphor of an infinite abyss for that matter? Surely, you jest!
- Airport departure scene. Enough said.
- The Soundtrack that's basically just any college kid's recent iTunes playlist, and soon to grace Urban Outfitters fitting rooms (no pun intended, for Christ's sake, I bought a bird-shit/bukkake-looking hat there just last week...).
+ Thievery Corporation, then again, used as they were walking into a home improvement store.
- The whole mental illness thang. Didn't even get to see seizures, frothing at the mouth, or any of the good stuff! Charity cases for affluent New England kids. Right.
- The emotionally numb thang until I met you. Enough said.
- Touching the dad's heart thang. Just... Que? Double QUE? QUE QUE?!?!
+ Natalie Portman was funny. So was the movie kinda.
- If I were to write a movie it would be EXACTLY like Garden State. That is not meant as a compliment at all.
+ Zach Braff probably did decently in his screenwriting workshop, that one in Santa Monica above French Connection or something.
------------------------------------------------
I guess it goes to show that Indie films can be formulaic as well...
I'm writing a paper on Steven Soderbergh's Sex, Lies, and Videotape, and noticed, what's up with all the 2 couples fucking each other psychological sex relationship "indie" dramas now? In the summer there was We Don't Live Here Anymore with Naomi Watts and this fall there's Closer with Jude Law and Julia Roberts. Grr, Oscar-hungry actors and psychology scholar screenwriting elitists!