you can’t spell sophistication without several letters from my name
going into this, i was—as i am wont to do—thinking about jon krakauer’s into the wild. chris mccandless has haunted me since we first crossed paths my freshman year of high school.
i do not get him. i am an indoorsy humanist addicted to pop culture, air conditioning, and mountain dew baja blast. i can barely stand camping for just one night on a designated campground. i fucking hate jack london. as a result, mccandless's impulse to completely extricate himself…
AFTER MUCH CAREFUL CONSIDERATION... below is my PhD dissertation on why this version is far, *far* superior to the '95 version (no matter what people try to tell you) in the form of an extremely exhaustive itemized list
DIRECTING. i'm opening with this because this is perhaps the biggest quality discrepancy. this is a carefully, wonderfully, immaculately directed film, whereas for the '95 i couldn't parse out any kind of artistic vision beyond making Pride And Prejudice The Book Except…
hard to feel anything but unadulterated disdain—MUCH less care or interest—for this man after watching him commit atrocity after atrocity, including (but certainly not limited to) two violent rapes. sir your name is NOODLES you and your buddy egg salad sandwich can sit the hell down.
even in general, the film never says or does anything interesting enough to justify the agonizingly long runtime. every single woman and girl exists to either get ogled or raped—sometimes both. i wish i…