So the British public pays their money with the billions-to-one-chance of winning the National Lottery, and with shavings of that money, certain projects are funded. This film-students' masturbatory aid is one of them.
I really hope none of my entries to the lottery were used and were either won by a convicted rapist or used to build an opera house for millionaires to drink champagne in, because frankly, this film is and represents everything I hate about "modern" cinema.
Character-wise, we have a faux-suicidal "artist" who is merely a spoilt rich Londoner with mummy and daddy issues who rebels by playing "pill race" (taking an overdose then phoning an ambulance to see which one wins) on camera. As she consistently survives this, she submits the tapes as coursework at university.
Next, we have an unbearably wet, lovesick male lead who constantly whines about some girl who left him. Were he to display a little more indignation and admirable qualities we might have the slightest sympathy.
Then, we have the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder soldier character who provides the only watchable screen-time as his Rorschach rip-off in the "parallel universe" Meanwhile City. The opening 5-10 minutes are entirely in Meanwhile City which means they are the only watchable minutes before the (SPOILER ALERT) "it's all in his head" plot starts to become apparent.
In "Fight Club" it wasn't original. It just about worked because it was so tongue in cheek, but by "The Machinist", it is such a rubbish twist.
Honestly, what is it about British cinema? Why can we turn out nothing but arty rubbish, Pride and Prejudice clones or kitchen sink council estate films?
Those in film colleges and universities will have infinite fun picking its semiotics and themes apart and scoffing at poor people for not knowing what mise-en-scene means, but personally, I'd avoid this one.
I'm just glad my ticket was free, but if my lottery money was used to fund the film, I am genuinely sorry for being a part of bringing this abhorrent film into the world.
I really hope none of my entries to the lottery were used and were either won by a convicted rapist or used to build an opera house for millionaires to drink champagne in, because frankly, this film is and represents everything I hate about "modern" cinema.
Character-wise, we have a faux-suicidal "artist" who is merely a spoilt rich Londoner with mummy and daddy issues who rebels by playing "pill race" (taking an overdose then phoning an ambulance to see which one wins) on camera. As she consistently survives this, she submits the tapes as coursework at university.
Next, we have an unbearably wet, lovesick male lead who constantly whines about some girl who left him. Were he to display a little more indignation and admirable qualities we might have the slightest sympathy.
Then, we have the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder soldier character who provides the only watchable screen-time as his Rorschach rip-off in the "parallel universe" Meanwhile City. The opening 5-10 minutes are entirely in Meanwhile City which means they are the only watchable minutes before the (SPOILER ALERT) "it's all in his head" plot starts to become apparent.
In "Fight Club" it wasn't original. It just about worked because it was so tongue in cheek, but by "The Machinist", it is such a rubbish twist.
Honestly, what is it about British cinema? Why can we turn out nothing but arty rubbish, Pride and Prejudice clones or kitchen sink council estate films?
Those in film colleges and universities will have infinite fun picking its semiotics and themes apart and scoffing at poor people for not knowing what mise-en-scene means, but personally, I'd avoid this one.
I'm just glad my ticket was free, but if my lottery money was used to fund the film, I am genuinely sorry for being a part of bringing this abhorrent film into the world.