Dave Schechter

A movie with so much to say that’s not easily decipherable to me. Where I’ve landed is that it is about juxtaposition: conservatism vs. anarchist counter-culture, mundanity vs. adventure, complacency vs. want. It’s hard to make sense of ourselves and the world we live in. It’s all as easy to wrap your head around as the notion that a guy may be riding around with an alien in the trunk of his Malibu and that UFOs may actually be time machines.

There’s more flaws than I could possibly speak to here, so I’m going to use this film as a means of discussing another pervasive problem plaguing movies right now: the movie equivalent of “poptimism” in film criticism. Serious Paid Critics, I am *begging *you to review movies honestly again. We do not need you to give Stevey a gold star for *trying *to speak to the moment. This was an abject failure at nearly every phase of the process. It is okay to say that. We do not need to give every post-prime director a cookie for making another one. We do not need to pretend to like *Project Hail Mary* because it made money at the box office. You saying you like these films will NOT save movies. What will save movies is honest criticism and movement towards younger, in-touch filmmakers accurately reflecting our times. Your job is not to preserve relationships so you can get big Steve to sit down for an interview or do a podcast; your job is to contextualize these films for the audience and help fuel the discourse/dialogue around an art-form we all love. You are all disrespecting and cheapening it by doing it the way you’re doing it.

This has solidified itself as the best Harmony Korine in my book

Boots Riley is based as fuck. Loved this