Had been thinking about this is regularly since I first watched it earlier this year. There's something about the way this looks, the way Kubrick captures Christmas lights, that I couldn't stop thinking about. A second viewing catapults this to the upper echelon. Although Kidman isn't very good, Cruise is pretty extraordinary. There's this boyish naivete where you aren't actually sure whether Tom Cruise knows what the fuck is going on, which feeds into Bill's punch-drunk rambling across fake-ass New York City.
This is also super funny. Each time Bill pulls out his medical license like he's working for the fucking FBI gets sillier and sillier.
In the end, though, it is a profoundly sad film about self-deception, how truly fragile any sense of self is, and how dependent that sense of self is on the willful performance of people around you.