Heartbreaking; they should be there.
That long dissolve from bright white flowers in the garden, in memory, in England to blue light on Bowie's head in the sand, eyes shut, in Java. Great colours and score and performances (I, uh, always mistook Tom Conti for Ray Romano in images and clips of this until my friends pointed out, before starting, that Ray Romano is, in fact, not in this movie), but it's working with a lot of the same ideas as Gohatto and I just prefer that, so I probably won't ever love this one.
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.