Kinda feels like a gallimaufry of cutscenes from the most disturbing PS2 game never made.

Hong is, perhaps more than any other modern filmmaker, obsessed with the epiphanic cadences of mundane badinage. From simple sentences, with accessible syntax and familiar vocabularies, the prolific filmmaker extrapolates the melancholy and loneliness afflicting his characters, those sad, despondent (though sometimes quite happy) souls who try to drown their sorrows in soju and injudicious decisions. Despite being set at Cannes, a festival of moving images, Claire’s Camera is, like most of Hong’s recent work, a film about the meaning of words, of the confusions that arise, and the insinuations that skulk in the spaces between.

If this is what passes for satire in 2016, I hope we all die really soon.