It’s 2008. I’m nonchalantly drinking a lukewarm cup of Eight O’Clock coffee with a lot of blueberry creamer in it for some reason. I’m wearing brown Dickies and a bootleg Indian Summer shirt that I bought on eBay for $40 + shipping. I casually whip my shaggy mop out from my eyes and fidget with a sploof on the futon. I’m holding court for a few friends stoned enough to listen and lengthily unravel the dense web of story they just…
"My [Lyft] score is very low -- I'm much too abrasive with the drivers..."
-One of the main characters that we're supposed to like and enjoy
My god, this is aggressively woke. From the get, its shallow, white feminism is thick with meritocratic condescension and empty representation. Kinda perfectly encapsulates liberalism as a state between hyper-cultural awareness and absolute helplessness -- anti-social nerds obsessed with process and rules, tearing up at the mention of Gilmore Girls. In two decades, Molly will be asking to speak to your manager. Don't trust Debate Club kids, seriously. Really makes me miss the apolitical Superbad if anything.
Gaspar Noé is extremely horny and he just won’t shut the fuck up about it. Absolute dogshit. Empty transgression, windmilling in your face with the false confidence of an exasperatingly annoying club kid. The ugliest handheld long takes I’ve ever endured, roaming the same single hallway in clunky pursuit of the carnality of human sexuality or whatever. You can rag on von Trier for being a troll and not be wrong, but at least he’s not stultifyingly one-note. I hated everything about this.