Maybe it’s a cultural thing.
Every artist is, after all, informed by their milieu. Just because I can’t stand to sit through a two and a half hour movie from Thailand doesn’t mean it’s bad.
It’s probably because I’m a sheltered North American who has grown up on the stylish, character driven, brilliance of Atom Egoyan or the entertaining, politically relevant, inspiration of Ridley Scott. I expect something with substance, something that makes me care, something rich in symbolism and creativity.
Hell, I just have to admit the truth: The Legend of Suriyothai – Chatri Chalerm Yukol’s narcissistic epic – was meant to be a boring, poorly acted, unedited, plot heavy, Francis Ford Coppola boosted, propaganda piece so that Thailand’s…