synecdoche, new york
I’ve been thinking about this film a lot today. It was really tightly woven and also loose enough to sometimes feel trippy. Everything fit together, russian dolls inside their bigger doppelgangers, the real and surreal and hyperreal connecting. Like my drawings, the drawing of the thing wanting to become the thing, and the frustration and beauty therein. We started this movie at 10 pm and it ended at 12:30 in the morning and we weren’t sure for the last hour if maybe the end was near, it did feel like it (intentionally) unraveled to its close; we just followed the thread along until we had nothing else to hold onto. With cool whip and ice cream, of course, to keep me awake.
