After throwing an anger fit over the inexplicable Biutiful hate vented over the last 28 or 30 hours, I’ve come to accept that the naysayers are just too numerous and persistent to push back against. Just a feeling that began to sink in about an hour ago.
I’m finally watching David Robert Mitchell‘s Myth of the American Sleepover — about a half-hour in — and it’s clearly as sharply cut and well-observed as SXSW reviews have claimed. Nothing feels written or faked. Each and every scene has a natural ease and honesty.
But if I was under fire and taking cover in Afghanistan, I’m wondering which of these kids, if they were also there, would have the cojones to shoot back like Val Kilmer did in Heat? They all seem so passive, so low-energy whatever. They’re all about whim and instinct and going with dreamy feelings. That’s the realm and the psychology, of course, but what is life at any age without tests of character in hairy (or at least semi-hairy) situations? You know, like with Richard Dreyfuss and the Pharoahs?