Watched for the Collab Film club!
Take this heap of broken images, fallen spectator, and make it whole: from this chronology-shattering trauma, this portentous wreckage, reassemble the idol that once was. Carefully watch for the patterns in the tapestry – those reiterated crosses, that procession of white-coated men – and reconstitute a theme so profound it buckled under its own weight, its implosion a testament of its gravity. Say something about the lying image, the connection between neurosis and fashion, life-sapping simulacra swirling around the glossy void.
Well, yes, I suppose I could – but it would be nice if the movie did at least some of the work.
I once read a critic who warned against the “fallacy of…