This has to be one of the ugliest and most depressing constructs I’ve ever seen. It defines ‘eyesore’. Some cursory research and I find it beguiling that this was once trumpeted as social housing magic, the architects banging on about it as a solution to societal ills. Architectural determinism is real, and this … thing completely disregards the ‘Eyes on the Street’ element to design as illuminated in Jane Jacobs’ masterful The Death and Life of Great American Cities.
Shockingly (for me as I’ve catalogued most of these ’80s classics) I’d never seen this until last week. It could be made today, that’s how ‘undated’ it is. What an experience – genuinely a hoot and wholly relatable. We’ve all been stuck next to some annoying blabbermouth on what seems like a never-ending journey into the abyss. And who can’t relate to a transportation fiasco.
It’s also a subtle portrayal of class, the difficulties of breaking barriers, and ultimately and reluctantly working together to get where you need to be. A life lesson! This should be screened at office training days or something.
One scene came out of nowhere in its profanity, and it’s quite the spectacle seeing Steve Martin finally crack. He wasn’t going to intimate that rental agent, but he did a wonderful job in articulating the pain of dealing these sorts.
A truly ghastly, thoroughly horrible movie that I finally put myself through. I’d heard ominous things about it but figured it couldnt be that bad. Oh my, it’s fucking dire, an absolute train wreck of a film. Let me try and explain why in the shortest time possible: it’s shite. It consists entirely of schematic conversations without a modicum of interest or anything to do with the plot even on a metaphorical level. It takes itself way too seriously to the extent that even the occasional splatter of violence comes across as desperately pretentious.
Nothing in it made any sense and yet with every scene I could smell the smugness on display; I got the feeling that the cast thought they were in a peak Tarantino. So boring, so without merit, so painful to watch. Give me those actors and a mere £200,000 and I will make you a better film.
A few folk I know have said something along the lines of, “Oh, it’s Cormac McCarthy.” I have no idea who he is (I don’t read much fiction) but I can assure you that in the screenwriting realm he is on this display a talentless fellow who probably lives in a log cabin just for the existential kudos. And what in the hell happened to Ridley Scott? He seems to be dedicating himself to garbage these days. Someone needs to write him a decent script.
I hated this movie so much. It’s the worst I’ve seen in a LONG TIME.
You stick a black-and-white filter on a bog-standard snap and it almost elevates the scene into something other than an iPhone image taken from the back of a freezing cold bus interior at 7:00 a.m.
This film is pretty much unique in its mastery of tone, a sense that you really don’t know whether it’s a drama or a comedy or where it’s going – it’s almost two or three genres in one and it’s informative to read the director’s quote about how they managed to achieve this no small feat: ‘With Grosse Pointe Blank I shot three movies simultaneously. We shot the script as written, we shot a mildly understated version, and we shot a completely over-the-top version, which usually was what was used.’
There’s a sweeping theme here of trying to recapture something that was never really there in the first place, the most thoughtful treatment of nostalgia ever to feature in what is ostensibly a comedy with gunfights. Only a peak John Cusack – the only ’80s geek to graduate to the postmodern – could carry it off. And as High School reunions go, ‘Mirror in the Bathroom’ should accompany each event:
A flawless movie. Even Dan Aykroyd is great in it and I generally cannot stand the lad.
