Maps To The Stars (2014)
People mumble. An odd woman claims to know Carrie Fisher. A vile child star is disgusting. A washed up actress who is obsessed with her dead cult figure mother obsesses. The diseased psycho-geography of Hollywood is laid bare. I didn’t want to engage with this. Carrie Fisher shows up. I don’t care about the damaged narcissists and the macho-portentous dialogue delivered with Chekhovian seriousness. The characters live lives of misery in a city that systematically crushes their spirits with a cavalcade of perversion. Things are entirely unexplained and this wearies and bores me.
“Our lives are rich and full. We made them from the ashes of what you left.”
4 cold and uncaring vile wretches have extremely inadvisable hook-ups. This was never going to be good. The characters are morally shady and incapable of human joy. This was largely inert. Jude Law is permanently furious and deadened and unemotional. This has no nuance or complexity, just misery and narcissism by self-regarding self important psychopathic jerks who are resolutely friendless. There are anticipated consequences and emotional discomfort. Nobody professes shame and one gleans no pleasure.
“I’m not a whore.”
“I wouldn’t pay.”