Straddling the boundary between grindhouse scuzz and Oscar-bait style earnestness, this film has an authentic and uncompromisingly gritty feel to it which makes me respect all the glowing reviews and cultish acclaim it gathers. What I couldn't do is enjoy it, because it came across as a slow meandering chore to get through. The plot was there, the atmosphere was there, but nothing was grabbing me. I felt like I should be transfixed, but found my concentration was lapsing so badly I had to rewind a few scenes 3 or 4 times before I took them in - and that was before the half hour mark.
There's a scene in Abigail's Party where Lawrence admires the complete Shakespeare collection sitting in his bookcase before saying "Of course, it's not the kind of thing you can actually read...". That's how I feel about this film. It's probably a classic, but I can't actually watch it.
There's a scene in Abigail's Party where Lawrence admires the complete Shakespeare collection sitting in his bookcase before saying "Of course, it's not the kind of thing you can actually read...". That's how I feel about this film. It's probably a classic, but I can't actually watch it.