This is really one of the most boring and useless movies I have ever had the displeasure of viewing. Generally speaking, I enjoy it when film makers expose a fringe subculture that is basically unknown to the general viewing audience. However, in the case of this klunky flick, that subculture is so intensely boring, so contrived, so unbearably drab and elitist that the film becomes almost unwatchable. Unless you are completely turned on by androgynous and asexual, white, thirty-something maritimers who wear vintage clothing, ride refurbished bicycles, and who enjoy long directionless conversations in a stilted and emotionless vernacular, than this is not the movie for you. Nothing about this movie seemed real or important, and I found it impossible to relate to anyone or anything within it.
To sum it up, Parsley Days made me feel like I was lying in a patch of dirt, in a stranger's backyard, wrapped in a cold, wet, musty smelling towel, while eating a bowl of plain white tofu, and listening to Ani DiFranco.
Avoid this movie.
To sum it up, Parsley Days made me feel like I was lying in a patch of dirt, in a stranger's backyard, wrapped in a cold, wet, musty smelling towel, while eating a bowl of plain white tofu, and listening to Ani DiFranco.
Avoid this movie.
