“the end is built into the beginning”

the most ridiculous thing about living is that childhood is its own eternity and then suddenly you’re an adult. time moves faster and faster and life is sectioned off into sleeping eating working blinking repeating, and deja vu happens more and more. i forget what day of the week it is all the time. i sleep until after 5pm some days just because i can. i can go into a store and buy whatever they’ll let me and whatever i have the money for. nothing means anything but also everything means something. i work so hard and get paid almost nothing. i stare into space between customers and think of being somewhere else.…

Get busy living, or get busy dying.

Weeks lost in one cut, years lost between scenes, lives lost in a blink of an eye. Time is slipping through our fingers. You may mind your own problems, sort your own miseries as if they are the only thing in this world worthy of your attention. You may play pretend; pretend you are a fairy, or an actor, or an actor playing an actor playing an actor. Set a daily routine for yourself as a distraction from the fact that we are all hurtling towards death. Still, before you know it, reality will catch up with you. You will suddenly wake up on what soon to be your own deathbed and realize…

Synecdoche, New York is baffling, weird, effusive, intoxicating, honest, and utterly perfect. It transcends the expectations of a mere film and conjures up something tangible and heartbreaking, lonely and imaginative, hopeful and yearning. Charlie Kaufman's vision rips into your soul and sets up camp, hitting your tear ducts and playing your heartstrings as every line of poetic whimsy and cosmic wit sends your state further down into different phases of confusion and awe.

Saying that this film is a keeper is an understatement, but if you asked me what it all meant, I would respond with a guffaw to end all guffaws. All I know is that I was a weeping mess by the end of it, I was fascinated…

"Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but it doesn't really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope that something good will come along. Something to make you feel connected, something to make you feel whole, something to make you feel loved. And the truth is I feel so angry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I've felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for…

I have no idea what the fuck I just watched. You cannot tell me that anyone has ever understood a Charlie Kauffman film on their own. That was a rollercoaster of existential dread and loneliness. 

I may never watch this movie again. The first half was classic Kauffman, throw stuff at you with deep rooted symbolism and hope you caught on. I never do. The second half, however, is something to just be experienced.

You don’t need to understand it, even though the logical side of my brain is still trying to wrap itself around all the different warehouses, but it makes sense in a sort of indescribable way. At times it was so clear and at others I would…

I watched this and it solidified Charlie Kaufman as my favorite writer/director, and this is probably my new favorite if not one of my new favorite movies. It is definitely not for everyone and is a little slow at points, but if you have watched other Kaufman movies and liked them, this is a must-watch. Another note is that I often see Kaufman movies labeled as comedies or dramedies, and not to say that this movie didn't have me chuckling at points, but I think that is a weird label to give it, I don't know what you would call it, but I think it needs its own genre name. This review won't have any spoilers but it is best…