I can't, I just fucking can't

Tamara 2022-04-22 07:01:41

it's fucking pathetically sad.

so sad you knew everything Kaufman is insinuating but just can't admit it!

because you can't stand the fact that the droopy, delusional old janitor with zero guts on the screen, is yourself!

i understand why people give this movie high scores because they "truly appreciate art", "can enjoy the delight of interpreting the amazing references that only a true cinephile can discover" or "simply have the taste beyond the mainstream"

boo who... taste my ass...

i just hate how condescendingly Kaufman "challenges" his audiences with "no twist" and "you either get it or you don't" attitude

Kaufman you are no better than the janitor in your movie either, i hope you realize that rather than tragically discover that when you are accepting some fakeass "lifetime achievement award".

gosh, what an ego maniac to make a movie like this.

jesus.

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Extended Reading
  • Pearlie 2022-01-05 08:01:59

    Seeing Frederick’s "A Lone Monk by the Sea" hanging in the living room of Jake's house, the sea fog in the painting turned into heavy snow in the film. Zong Baihua quoted this painting in "A Walk in Aesthetics" to explain that both Western painters and Chinese painters have a love for endless space, and what he said in Chinese painting "sees the infinity in the finite, and returns to the finite in the infinite". With universal applicability, what is the difference between Wang Wei's "Thousands of miles from the pillow, and the rooms from the window" is different from the snow in Jake's heart.

  • Nellie 2022-03-26 09:01:09

    How to eliminate the "Kurishov effect" that appeared at the beginning of the film? For Kaufman, the answer is that as a virtual brain-image, the non-existence of the other is discovered in the encounter of the other, thereby invalidating the front/reverse fight of the subject-object dichotomy, just like the rotation seen by the heroine in the basement The washing machine, the main body moves towards the "object", but it is finally incorporated into another main body in a tree-like manner. In "I Want to End It All", only the suffocating interior view of the car is a real physical space, as brain or as a coffin. It's still, or unaware of its movement except for the snowflakes drifting backwards in the foreground, like the backdrop of a classic Hollywood car perspective. The space outside the car is a black hole of memory that is repeatedly inhaled and controlled by the virtual. With the invasion of the "subject", the potential is materialized in the way of being given direction, and finally accumulates the intensity, until the final locked door - unable to return physical brain. In this way, "I" with some American-style suspense shells can be first understood as Godard's self-talk, but finally presented as a musical version of "Wild Strawberry."

I'm Thinking of Ending Things quotes

  • Janitor: What does your boyfriend look like?

    Young Woman: It's hard to describe people. It was so long ago, I barely remember. I mean... We never even talked, is the truth. I'm not even sure I registered him. There's a lot of people. I was there with my girlfriend... We were celebrating our anniversary, stopped in for a drink, and then this guy kept looking at me. It's a nuisance. The occupational hazard of... of being a female. You can't even go for a drink. Always being looked at. He was a creeper! You know? And I remember thinking, I wish my boyfriend was here. Which is... That's sort of sad, that being a woman, the only way a guy leaves you alone is if you're with another guy. Like, if... like... like you've been claimed. Like you're property, even then. Anyway, I can't... I can't remember what he looks like. Why would I? Nothing happened. Maybe it was just... I think it was just... Just one of thousands of such non-interactions in my life. It's like asking me to describe a mosquito that bit me on an evening 40 years ago. Well, you haven't seen anyone fitting that description, have you?

  • The Voice: It's not bad, once you stop feeling sorry for yourself because you're just a pig, or, even worse, a pig infested with maggots. Someone has to be a pig infested with maggots, right? It might as well be you. It's the luck of the draw. You play the hand you're dealt. You make lemonade. You... you move on. You don't worry about a thing.