I took this on the corner of Broadway and 49th right after catching a noon showing of Paul Schrader‘s Adam Resurrected, a kind of Nazis-and-Jews Marat/Sade cinema-of-the-absurd concoction, based on a respected book by Yoram Kaniuk, about a man’s gradual recovery from the horrors of World War II.
I needed a moment to collect myself and for some reason locked in on Keith Olbermann and Rachel Maddow as a way back into my pre-Adam headspace.
Adam Resurrected played at Telluride but doesn’t open until late December, so there’s plenty of time to get into it. There’s no question about Jeff Goldblum having given one of those exceptional, out-there, once-in-a-career performances that too few actors in their autumnal years get a chance to rock out and kick ass with. But after you’ve acknowledged this (and many have thus far), the question is “to what end?”
The line I was saying to myself as I walked out of the Brill Building was, “I sink there iss maybe a little too much dog-barking in this film….no?”