"I don't know who you are"
"I don't know either"
Risibly self-serious exchanges and decrees like this one abound in The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them, a grim grieving/recovery drama that rings almost entirely false. It's only when the presence of director and Malick-wannabe Ned Benson gets out of the way, relinquishing his heavy hand, that Chastain's, and occasionally McAvoy's, grace are allowed to emote with any clarity. In fact, the film is more reverent of the easy platitudes…
Wryly, not smugly self-aware. Loopy yet unmistakably poetic world-building. Leitch & Stahelski trust the power of image. But don't doubt this thing's intelligence. It's more concerned with excavating Reeves's personality than you'd think.
I engaged with the film's many pleasures, and some of my reservations toward its treatment of violence, for the 6 Nov 2014 edition of The Miscellany News. The review is online here.
Just when it seems the rampant violence will go completely unchecked, though, the…
PTA is adept at immersing us in state of fog; transitory, fluid perspective. Humanity kept at bay. Strangely half-assed. Get that its apathy is sort of part of the point, as is unexplored, hollow nature of characters, but ≠ a satisfying film.
also, off the top of my head before I review it proper:
Anderson's don’t-give-a-shit attitude (the filmmaker practically scoffed during the Vice critics’ screening Q&A when asked about his male-centric filmography and the introduction of a female narrator) lends Inherent Vice its loose charms but also a distant and hollow dimension to its humanity.