As you know, I rarely pan movies/books/plays (see item below), but I feel I have to issue a warning about the much-touted Netflix/Charlie Kaufman flick, I’m Thinking of Ending Things, based on the novel of the same name that I never read. The movie isn’t worth seeing. Thank God Netflix didn’t charge a premium for it. Then I would have wasted my time and my money.
I was sucked in because Kaufman previously wrote two of my favorite weird films: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Being John Malkovich. His dense, complex, unsettling scripts are clearly catnip to talented actors. And, usually, to film buffs.
In this case, all a waste. Perhaps, if you read the novel, the film would make some kind of sense (as was the case, for example, with 2001, A Space Oddesey). If you are desperate to see it, I suggest you can check out the Wikipedia plot summary, or the one I found at Den Of Geeks. It seems (like The Sixth Sense) that this film is may be more interesting on a second viewing. It is highly unlikely to be tolerable otherwise.
I haven’t disliked a film this much since Fellini’s Amarcord, whose title is an Italian word that means “I remember.” When I panned it in The Tech (“I wish I could forget”), I was informed by the distributor that mine was the only negative review in a U.S. college newspaper. Back in the pre-Internet days there was no way to prove that.
I doubt mine will be the only negative review of this disappointment.
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