The longer I’ve had an account on this app, the more I’ve tried to not just write something for every film that I log, but also to write some sort of serious appraisal or takeaway. To write something insightful. Film as a medium is so important to me that I feel the deep urge to be able to contribute to legitimate discourse around it in my own small way. The fact that things I post on here range from zero to a maximum of like… seven likes is irrelevant. It’s not about thinking people need to hear what I have to say, it’s about knowing I have something to say. Whether anyone reads/enjoys it or not is irrelevant. Film is a beautiful art form that I want to write about. Then I watch a film like this, and the whole thing unravels. I just finished watching Fear & Loathing (largely due to being on a bit of a Hunter S. Thompson kick lately), and it has delivered to me an experience unparalleled by any film I’ve seen since Beau Is Afraid. It may well have entered my top 10 list, and that’s at the very least. And yet I have nothing to say. Nothing insightful. Nothing important. Hell, not even anything funny. And I’m fine with that. In fact, to me, it’s a testament to the quality of this film. For better or for worse, I have the urge to deliver my viewpoint on every piece of art I interact with. I want to show people I ‘get it’ by hastily pinning my own opinions or interpretations to the works cork-board, but I simply can’t with this. Because it’s a fully self-contained experience that no earthly being can add to. Any thought or feeling I could share about it is embedded within the text itself, and there is little external explanation or analysis or opinion I could offer that would provide anything greater (in both meanings of the word) than the experience of just watching the damn movie. Buy the ticket, take the ride.
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