Synopsis, New York: Play within Play

Burley 2022-12-07 19:51:40

■Text/Too many

I heard that the comments on this film are clearly divided into two extremes: obscure or profound

Charlie Kaufman I am full of incredible love for every film by this geek director from From being Malkovich to being warm and radiant sometimes I even wonder if he and all the grooves in the brains of the characters in these movies look different from normal people. . .

The whole movie uses so many actors and so many sets that seem to help the protagonist think about what life is, what a movie is, a drama, a green zip-up coat from childhood, a fallen petal tattoo on an arm, a daily take from God The note that arrives is a miniature oil painting or a drugged glass of wine is anything you can think of.

He is the director. He directs his own life. He wants to be as real and perfect as possible. Sad but this behavior is tantamount to the little girl constantly yelling at her mother "my finger is bleeding, my finger is bleeding" trying to get attention and let the world know "I hurt" this is him A humble way to prove his existence When he knows he's been abandoned by the world, at

the end, he finally knows how to make the show, set the stage, set the name, he's getting old, and the actors are all dead by now The remaining sentence to a stranger I love you

View more about Synecdoche, New York reviews

Extended Reading

Synecdoche, New York quotes

  • Sammy Barnathan: I've watched you forever, Caden, but you've never really looked at anyone other than yourself. So watch me. Watch my heart break. Watch me jump. Watch me learn that after death there's nothing. There's no more watching. There's no more following. No love. Say goodbye to Hazel for me. And say it to yourself, too. None of us has much time.

  • [over radio]

    Millicent Weems: What was once before you - an exciting, mysterious future - is now behind you. Lived; understood; disappointing. You realize you are not special. You have struggled into existence, and are now slipping silently out of it. This is everyone's experience. Every single one. The specifics hardly matter. Everyone's everyone. So you are Adele, Hazel, Claire, Olive. You are Ellen. All her meager sadnesses are yours; all her loneliness; the gray, straw-like hair; her red raw hands. It's yours. It is time for you to understand this.

    Millicent Weems: Walk.

    Millicent Weems: As the people who adore you stop adoring you; as they die; as they move on; as you shed them; as you shed your beauty; your youth; as the world forgets you; as you recognize your transience; as you begin to lose your characteristics one by one; as you learn there is no-one watching you, and there never was, you think only about driving - not coming from any place; not arriving any place. Just driving, counting off time. Now you are here, at 7:43. Now you are here, at 7:44. Now you are...

    Millicent Weems: Gone.