pretty much exactly what you'd imagine an adaptation of a don delillo work would be. every line of dialogue so self-interrogating it's as if it has already thought about a thousand different varying dialectics in response, all subject to the hurtling impending 'death' that exerts itself hegemonically. such a fascinating continuity of delillo's works that i've found: in white noise he deconstructs into archetypes but emphasizes their inherent absurdity. here it does that hegelian thing, you know the one with the previous being the tragedy and the here being the farce. or was that marx? engel? context, there is nothing outside the [con]text, and as such i find myself in that uncomfortable position where i see only delillo in this and can't really find where the cronenberg begins. albeit, i commend him for capturing that sort of ephemeral quality of delillo; the obvious sets and artificial green screen all work favorably in an ontopological relation to patterson's character. i also cannot state eloquently how much patterson nails his performance. if awards actually mattered he'd have been given all of them.

that context too makes it's difficult for me to recommend it in this current form. if i want what's here, all i need is the paper or the soft yellow glow of a worn e-reader. this i know. don't get me wrong, though, i'm all about storytelling first and foremost, but there's a synthesis of image and narrative in respect to time that just gets me going. wasn't there someone who said that dialogue is easy? i hope so, because then it'd be on good authority.

in.. in the old tribes, the chief who destroyed more property than the other chiefs was the most powerful.

what else?

will liked these reviews