In the poster we see Nicole Kidman, last seen in BMX Bandits, looking at the viewer with the poignant, and pointed, question: why am I kissing this homosexual?
Clearly Stanley Kubrick's practical joke on the viewer and on humanity in general, he has made a film that portrays cheating on one's spouse as THE MOST FUCKING BORING THING OF ALL TIME. Indeed, studies show that cases of adultery fell thirty percent after this film was viewed. And cases of listless drowsy crankiness spiked.
Here we see Tom Cruise contemplating a viewer of this film. The poor sucker didn't make it. She did manage, however, to take off all her clothes before she expired, though. Nice of her.
On the back of the DVD case, the movie is touted as having "graceful tracking shots." I don't know about you, but the main reason I watch movies is for their graceful fucking tracking shots. Oooh, oooh, there's one now! Drink!
But what's it all about? It's about a man who thinks his wife is or might be cheating on him and he goes or dreams that he goes to an orgy or what seems to be an orgy and confronts his fears or seems to or dreams it or masturbates about it while seeming to dream and/or hallucinate a dream about seeming to dream inside a dream of seeming. And Nicole Kidman's naked arse.
During his harrowing journey of self discovery and stuff, Cruise drives a car.
He catches up on Marmaduke in the local paper.
He walks the city streets.
He checks his text messages.
And if you're still awake by now, then you are a better man than I (we knew that already, of course.)
They say that the moderns like James Joyce and Faulkner came along and broke all the rules, except one--never bore the reader. Then Samuel Beckett came along and broke that last rule. Mr Kubrick must have felt that Beckett had not gone far enough.
Oh well. Who wants to attend an orgy where everyone wears creepy masks?
Ecch. Neither do I. I'm going to bed.
Did they text then? That's all I got.
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