At some point during the disorientating jumble of onscreen activities my companion turned and thus conceded that this perhaps had been the wrong film selection. My response? It looks like it was written by a schizophrenic. The pure torture of remaining in my seat, resisting the urge to talk as a courtesy to others in the cinema was a worse affliction than gaseous flatulence when in the company of an attractive member of the opposite sex. The sense of blissful euphoria shrouding my person as I strode as fast as I could out of the cinema, dissatisfied and annoyed at such a pitiful lack of effort was astounding; I genuinely considered requesting a refund.
The movie itself definitely has the potential makings of a blockbuster chart topper, however the lack of engagement from the characters and a storyline that is sluggishly prolonged so as to consume as much of your precious time as possible, meant that I could not honestly enjoy the movie experience.
Perhaps (based on the number of awards it has received and is expected to receive) the movie is a textbook perfect example of great cinematography maybe this is what one is taught in "film school" should such a thing exist. Whatever the case maybe, this tedious motion picture had me continuously reaching for my phone as I sought an escape from the prosaic work of David O.Russell . The worst thing was, up until the rolling credits, I still expected some show of genius; some unexpected twist that would leave me gagging for more, instead, all I got was the commonplace feature happy ending of disney films, where by the protagonist resolves everything, and with no explanation turns a bad situation into something "hunky-dory" while whoever happens to be the villain of the piece receives their just desserts. I would rather have saved myself £20 and stayed home to observe the grass outside my front porch grow an inch or two.I shan't lie, it was an epically shit film.
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