Damn Orson, wyd ?
Buried under the idiotic push-ins, whip pans, tilts, and yes, lens flares, is a movie at war with itself: old vs. new, artist vs. corporation, fantasy vs. “realism.” All the best ideas are submerged — absent fathers, failed republics, orphaned children, the meta-myth of Star Wars itself — sub-subtext of what? What is the text here? What is happening? What are they saying? Why does this matter? We’ve seen all of this before, yes, but what does the repetition tell…