Like a painting of a mountain after it rains by an artist you can't remember. Kim's character talks to three friends, watches three black and white images, and three men stand with their backs to the camera. She doesn't give much away until the very end, though she's clearly looking for something by repeating the anecdote about her husband thinking people in love should never be apart. The last friend says repetition is insincere. Men cause difficulties in the three…
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
The only interesting idea that can be pulled from this movie is if someone told you as a child that they were from the future and that you would end up married, and constantly hammered that into your head while you grew up; would you marry them because that's how the future works or because they kinda forced themselves upon you emotionally when you were only five or six years old?
A reactionary fantasy of American iconography: fast cars, advertisements, cheap food, violent men and skinny dancing women, even before it gets to its revisionist climax. A star-vehicle for Pitt and DiCaprio (Robbie's hardly in this) to play characters experiencing a loss in popularity, and thus reason for being, they have never gone through; a false mourning if there ever was one. Formless enough, in its editing and jukebox style, to mitigate any introspection in terms of this loss and not be particularly interesting in its conservatism. Let's not settle for this only because it's the first big non-Disney film in a while.