As you begin to watch Park Chan-wook‘s Decision to Leave (MUBI, 10.14), there’s no denying that you’re being carried along by a masterful visual composer. Every shot is exquisite, a painting, an eye bath…and so perfectly balanced.

And during the first 30 to 40 minutes you can’t help saying to yourself “wow, this guy is really good” while at the same time hoping that it’ll amount to more than just a delicious film noir by way of a haunting mood trip.

And of course it doesn’t. As the first hour comes to an end it begins to hit you. This film is all visual swoon and superficial noir strokes, you realize — it’s not going to build or pivot or dovetail into anything. But it’ll look great every step of the way.

And then you look at your watch and go “oh Jesus Mary mother of God, there’s another 70 or 80 minutes to go!” And you realize that you’re stuck, and you descend into a feeling of being locked in an animal cage filled with straw. And you realize, of course, that the minutes are just going to drag on and on. You’d like to leave but you can’t because you’re watching a film by the great Park Chan-wook, and only a rank philistine would do such a thing.

I’m just saying that Decision to Leave is opening on a week from Friday, and that…oh, hell, do what you want. Some critics are nuts for this guy. But this film should ideally be called Decision to Avoid.

Following the big Toronto Film festival debut, the U.S. premiere of Decision to Leave happened at Austin’s Fantastic Fest (9.22 to 9.29) — that should tell you something.

Posted from Cannes on 5.23: With all due respect for Park Chan-wook’s smoothly masterful filmmaking chops (no one has ever disputed this) and the unbridled passion that his cultish film critic fans have expressed time and again…

And with respect, also, for the time-worn film noir convention of the smart but doomed male protagonist (a big city homicide detective in this instance) falling head over heels for a Jane Greer-like femme fatale and a psychopathic wrong one from the get-go…

The labrynthian (read: convoluted) plotting of Park’s Decision To Leave, though initially intriguing, gradually swirls around the average-guy viewer (read: me) and instills a feeling of soporific resignation and “will Park just wrap this thing up and end it already?”

Jesus God in heaven, but what doth it profit an audience to endure this slow-drip, Gordian knot-like love story-slash-investigative puzzler (emphasis on the p word) if all that’s left at the end is “gee, what an expert directing display by an acknowledged grade-A filmmaker!”

“Paris, October 4h, 2022 — Microids is pleased to announce Pendulo Studios’ latest narrative adventure game, Alfred Hitchcock – Vertigo, which is now available on PlayStation®5, PlayStation®4, Xbox One consoles, Xbox Series X|S and Nintendo Switch. It will launch on October 4th in North America.

“Loosely based on the famous director’s movie of the same name, Alfred Hitchcock – Vertigo is a narrative experience, also available on PC (Steam, GOG, Epic Games Store).

“Alfred Hitchcock – Vertigo tells the story of Ed Miller, a writer who escaped unscathed from a car crash in Brody Canyon, California. Ed insists that he was traveling with his wife and daughter, though nobody was found in the car wreckage. Traumatized by the crash, Ed begins to suffer from severe vertigo. As he starts therapy, Ed will try to uncover the truth behind what really happened on that tragic day.”

And I certainly admired and respected the Real McCoy — a country music legend, a contemporary of Elvis and Jerry Lee, not much younger than Hank Williams.  And I understand the basic thing about  country singers being conservative.  But her musical gifts aside, I always felt a certain distance from Loretta Lynn.  She was a Nixon fan in the early ’70s and a supporter of Donald Trump’s candidacy in ’16.   But Sissy Spacek‘s performance melted my heart, and it obviously came straight from Lynn’s life so I guess I should respect that.  Hard to believe Coal Miner’s Daughter opened 42 years ago. Tommy Lee Jones‘ “Doo” was one of his finest.

I have a 10:45 am appointment at the Norwalk DMV (new license and plates), and I’m chilling in a nearby Starbucks.  “Chilling” isn’t actually the word due to a  boom-box couple sitting 15 feet away.  They’re broadcasting (i.e., shouting, bellowing) their conversation, and every customer has no choice but to listen to the dude, who sounds exactly like Delroy Lindo as he turns on the charm.  The Delilah he’s flirting with is no broadcasting slouch herself.  They’re oblivious to the fact that the conversational noise they’re making is as distracting (and certainly as annoying) as a barking dog.  It all comes down to how you were raised.  If you come from a loud family, you’re going to follow suit as an adult.