I'm tired, I don't feel well, and it's been a long day, so I've invited my other personality, Slappy Jones, to write the review for Synecdoche, New York. Take it away, Slappy:Hey folks. So I went to see Synecdoche to with Fletch, Mrs. Fletch, Mrs. Slappy and some other friends of ours (and their alternate personalities as well) a few weeks ago, and 17 1/2 of us still haven't made up our collective minds as to how much we liked it. I mean, there were definitely some varying opinions as to how good, bad, or indifferent it was, but the general consensus was definitely positive. We were all confused about some things (like the infamous burning house you've probably heard about), but with so many of us (and let me take the time to say that Mrs. Fletch's alternate personality's alternate personality Victoria is just a doll. I mean, should you ever run into her, please give her my best.) around, we were all around to help each other out. I'm 88% sure I now understand 91% of the movie, and am 74% sure I need and want to see it again to understand at least 7 of the remaining 9%.
Wait just a goddamn second here, Slappy. Sorry to interrupt here - it's Fletch again - but Slappy just seems to be all over the damn place, and isn't making a lick of sense. I'll give him another chance. Slappy, please please please be more coherent and give a cogent review of the film.
Jeez, what an anal retentive tool. Sometimes I really hate sharing the same body as that guy.
Anyway, in case you've been living in a cave, Synecdoche, New York is the story of one Caden Cotard (even his name is code for stuff - really, just look it up), a playwright whose life is going all flipsy-dipsy-topsy-turvy of him, from constant maladies to an inability to gauge time and space to a pseudo-lesbian wife and hypophobic daughter that are set to skip town on his loser ass. Long story short, he decides to do an epic play of gargantuan proportions, both figuratively and literally, in which thousands of people will play out life in general, all within the confines of a large warehouse, and then like the snake that eats its tail, will repeat that cycle until Caden has a guy playing himself, who also has a guy playing himself, who also has a guy...guess which one I liked best?
Personally, I loved the film. Fletch - well, he couldn't get past some of the symbolic things in the film that didn't seem to symbolize anything in particular, but I say any movie that features three or more versions of the same character (more or less) is tops in my book. That goes for you, too, Being John Malkovich. Ah ah ah - wait a sec - who let Multiplicity in the room? Ok, maybe not any movie with that, but you get the gist. Now, if only The Island had had another version of Scarlett Johannson, maybe we'd have ranked it in the top ten for that year, but with just two --
Ok, I give up. Slappy, you're fired.
Fletch's (and Slappy's!) Film Rating:
"It's in the hole!"
