Movie watcher, comic writer, podcast maker
When I was 13, I convinced a complete stranger online that I was going to kill myself. I wanted to start with this because of the parallels to plot elements in World’s Fair—but it’s also inescapable that for me here to abruptly confess a shameful transgression that I’ve literally never told another human being, to a small gaggle of disinterested strangers on letterboxd, is itself right in line with World’s Fair. Heyo.
It’s a movie that doesn’t really try to unpack…
Beloved and self-aware indie film director Jim Jarmusch opens his Actors Rolodex and assembles the Jarmusch Avengers for The Dead Don’t Die; a zombie movie that isn’t a zombie movie so much as it is a movie about beloved and self-aware indie film director Jim Jarmusch making a zombie movie. It knows it’s a bad movie, tells you at length that it knows it’s a bad movie, but doesn’t do anything interesting with the fact that it’s a bad movie. I’ve never sat in a theater so palpably tired of being winked at before.
Obviously this doesn’t even cross my radar without the Till Death Do Us Blart podcast, but like most(?) McElroy/Worst Idea fans I eventually took the holy thanksgiving pilgrimage, and came out the other side battered but not broken.
It’s bad in the ways you already know it’ll be bad, and it makes no effort to explain or justify itself, so maybe I’m grading on a curve. But despite having literally zero laughs in it, and despite containing one truly baffling…
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Far from my favorite Benson/Moorhead joint and in its serious moments it feels like a far more callow Before Sunset. There’s a deeper, chewier allegory to be found in this concept than this movie is able to uncover; Spring instead spends its last third having the characters explain the premise of the movie to each other over and over, between relatively unconvincing pontifications about the nature of love and ephemerality.
Frankly it’s hard to believe that, over millenia of seducing men, the…