There’s a real “evil genius” quality to the design of this race. And you wonder about the individuals who are drawn by the diabolical insanity of it all. As John Siracusa half-jokingly speculates, these geeky, dogged wacko runners probably have some serious issues, and therapy comes in many forms. Sometimes doing something crazy can be the cure for feeling crazy. And this race is goddamn crazy.
There are names, relationships, and plot points that I only just figured out during this, my fifth rewatch.
There are entire conversations I still don’t understand at all.
There is more than one shot that focuses almost exclusively on the grossness of Sportello’s gross feet.
Still, I love every minute of this movie.
And still, I worry that, once I do figure out what the heck is going on, I’ll hate it.*
*That’s what the minus half-star is for: paranoia alert!