Burning ★★★★

Part of 2018 Leftovers

If there isn't one already, then there should be a name for this kind of effect. Burning strikes a delicate balance on the cusp of unknowing and a profound realization and maintains that balance for a frankly stunning amount of time, so much so that that the uncertainty reached enough of an equilibrium that it felt as though a concrete outcome or explanation, no matter the content of or the context surrounding its delivery, would be unsatisfactory as a result of merely tipping the act off its fine point and forcing it into literally any other direction.

It's confusion. It's an assault on youth. It's Rebels of the Neon Gods by way of L'Avventura. It's an investigation of a generation dependent on inheritance, and the further the gap between the rich and the everyman expands, the more territory is left unexplored by the sheer distance between it and any recognizable form of reality, manifesting as misunderstandings, whose inevitable spiral into violence is historically well-documented.

That is the atmosphere of Burning, as previously stated, an exceptionally measured and lengthy tightrope walk of two lines: the separation of the consciousness of youth from the "sins of the fathers" and of those specifically middle-class and dependent youths from the ones whose behavior, enabled by wealth, defies reason to the point of seeming alien. It is a thick and morose atmosphere, bolstered by technical expertise.

(Mid) 8 / 10 - Great

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