Why did one humiliate oneself watching a movie like this one? It must be some masochistic layer deeply ingrained within one's own twisted mind... What a BOOOORE!!
One never knows what is going on and the pacing is maddeningly slow. Whenever there is a chance to hear the protagonist talking on her cellular (plenty of calls in this movie) and hoping this time to hear some clarifying explanation to what is going on, she gets behind a glass door, a window, anything that will cut out the sound so one only sees her moving her lips until she cuts the communication and comes out of hiding to go nobody knows where and walks..., and walks..., takes a subway..., takes a bus..., one is forced to go on real time the whole itinerary of the f****** bus!
The camera shows us a surreal empty Milano, empty streets, empty neighborhoods, at any time of day or night. What is the idea? maybe to discourage the tourist trade, because there is no other reason for it.
MMmm..., maybe the director thought that Antonioni would have done that.
Fortunately one fell asleep several times throughout the projection, so one got some relief from the torment of having to watch this... movie?
On one scene the protagonist starts walking into a mile long corridor as she talks to another person and we see those two figures back there, tiny and far away, coming towards the camera, talking non stop and one thinks 'OK, this is it, I won't watch another single minute of this nonsense', but since one is in such a cozy drowsy sleepy state of mind, one doesn't move, hoping to go back to sleep a few more minutes of blissed oblivion from this crap (as a child one never slept as cozily as during the projection of a movie, reclined on one's mother's shoulder --unfortunately one doesn't dispose any longer of a mother's shoulder, so one had to resign oneself to one's own shoulder).
It's a pity because the main premise of the script is quite interesting and even fascinating, but a carbon copy of Antonioni's long silences and pacing won't produce an Antonioni masterpiece.
Antonioni was unique and so were his productions, any attempt to imitate him will fall flat on its face (And this without saying that Antonioni's style is completely out of fashion nowadays).
All the actors are very good, even the director is very good, but the final product, with those enigmatic half dialogues on cellular phones (one never hears the other half of them) and those depressing real time travelings through Milano on public transportation, failed completely to keep one from falling asleep.
One never knows what is going on and the pacing is maddeningly slow. Whenever there is a chance to hear the protagonist talking on her cellular (plenty of calls in this movie) and hoping this time to hear some clarifying explanation to what is going on, she gets behind a glass door, a window, anything that will cut out the sound so one only sees her moving her lips until she cuts the communication and comes out of hiding to go nobody knows where and walks..., and walks..., takes a subway..., takes a bus..., one is forced to go on real time the whole itinerary of the f****** bus!
The camera shows us a surreal empty Milano, empty streets, empty neighborhoods, at any time of day or night. What is the idea? maybe to discourage the tourist trade, because there is no other reason for it.
MMmm..., maybe the director thought that Antonioni would have done that.
Fortunately one fell asleep several times throughout the projection, so one got some relief from the torment of having to watch this... movie?
On one scene the protagonist starts walking into a mile long corridor as she talks to another person and we see those two figures back there, tiny and far away, coming towards the camera, talking non stop and one thinks 'OK, this is it, I won't watch another single minute of this nonsense', but since one is in such a cozy drowsy sleepy state of mind, one doesn't move, hoping to go back to sleep a few more minutes of blissed oblivion from this crap (as a child one never slept as cozily as during the projection of a movie, reclined on one's mother's shoulder --unfortunately one doesn't dispose any longer of a mother's shoulder, so one had to resign oneself to one's own shoulder).
It's a pity because the main premise of the script is quite interesting and even fascinating, but a carbon copy of Antonioni's long silences and pacing won't produce an Antonioni masterpiece.
Antonioni was unique and so were his productions, any attempt to imitate him will fall flat on its face (And this without saying that Antonioni's style is completely out of fashion nowadays).
All the actors are very good, even the director is very good, but the final product, with those enigmatic half dialogues on cellular phones (one never hears the other half of them) and those depressing real time travelings through Milano on public transportation, failed completely to keep one from falling asleep.
