This is what happens when you take a unique idea for a story and then completely waste it. This film embraces cliches, tropes, and stereotypes at every turn then jumps the shark, or maybe the open cable car, after its already jumped everything else.
I didn't know anything about this up front, only that I like Zoe Kazan and am looking for more good romances I haven't seen. Still looking. The idea of the voice in your head being real…
Insultingly formulaic and predictable. The film sets itself up as a twisty psychological thriller but doesn't for one second put in any effort. It only offers one suspect that it weakly disguises and a limp red herring where the only effort in the disguise came in the big name casting.
It doesn't even have the benefit of strong characters or performances. Ethan Hawke is the closest the film gets to a real performance but he's still saddled by the shockingly…
This film is full of such empty pretension, empty politicking, and flabby, cliched writing, I don't understand the positive reception to it at all.
There is nothing in this film we haven't seen someone else do better in another film. It's another White Privelege Dinner Party film that leans into every condescending trope of the clashing of cultures without going anywhere insightful or remotely fresh. The ending manages to cram two different and terrible cliches in that are totally unearned…
This is a really creepy train wreck. The whole premise is deeply troubling and horrible and never gets resolved in a meaningful way. We're asked to laugh and go along with some rough stuff here.
It's a violent case of Stockholm syndrome as a romantic comedy. An obnoxious, psychotic cowboy determined to /get/ a woman finds one, kidnaps her, and forces her to come home and marry him. The opening song is about a guy singing that he doesn't care…
Trash can be art. And it often is. Look at NWR, look at Ford's Nocturnal Animals, Park's The Handmaiden. The problem is trash isn't a well understood or respected genre and so many filmmakers that engage in making trashy films use it as an excuse to make something poorly written and completely contrived. That's the sort of trash that Passion is.
The characters aren't characters but thinly sexualized cardboard cut outs and the narrative is so by the numbers until…
Not much in the way of narrative, pacing, humour, or action here.
Wilder gets a few moments in here and there and when Pryor appears at the hour mark he has some fun too, but this is a baffling "action-comedy" that has little of either.
The narrative doesn't start for about 30 minutes, every scene is stretched beyond any sense of purpose, and every action/plot/comic beat is repeated again and again.
This film is exactly what you expect to get and the only source of entertainment comes from the natural charisma of Jeffrey Dean Morgan and the above average direction.
The narrative is bland but inoffensive, at least at first, until it insists on laying out increasingly idiotic twists and turns until it finale ends in a completely ridiculous and laughable place.
The film hedges every bet it has on the last ten minutes working out, but it doesn't lay any groundwork or do anything remotely worthwhile leading up to it to make the twist meaningful.
Additionally, the film leading up to the twist is a cheap, poorly written, poorly acted, poorly edited, misogynistic, ugly thing. Now, the misogyny and ugliness may have been intentional to play into the ending but I don't mean in the characters (who are) or in the…
The film is a tonal mess and riddled with plot and logic holes. There's no sense of tension being built at any point. The comedy is always played loud and obvious. The romance is ludicrous and can't be taken seriously. The mystery angle is even more so, with a doctor for some reason hunting down the truth and finding it based on the flimsiest of evidence.
Whatever this film wants to be, whether it's comic, dramatic, horrific, or romantic, it attacks at its goals amateurishly and without any sense of story or sense.
The film wavers between beautiful cinematography and laughably bad, amateurish, and cheap cgi and camerawork.
The narrative presentation is a poorly translated play that was never properly adapted to the film medium.
It generally seems that Julie Taymor is an incredibly sharp eyed visual director with horrible judgment and little self control.
The performances get bigger and louder throughout until they reach an unbearable level about a third of the way through.
Ben Whishaw must be wishing he'd turned this…
This rabid collection of scenes within scenes and cross connected characters whirls around and around in confused unfocused circles, quickly spinning out into a meta mess.
Maybe another watch could thread it together better, but I had a difficult time seeing past the ego and finding any kind of meaning that wasn't completely contrived.