Notes: I guess i had some fond memories of the Spook season 1 so thought Id check up on this, and well, I asked for it. I watched it to endure fragmented concentration and pain, which it made worse. Nothing like the tagline Bourne meets Mission Impossible. Horrible. Ive seen better writing in toilet graffiti. General waste of oxygen.
Notes: Can you relate to this feeling? Imagine you are sharing a joke with a group of people in a party. It might not even be a joke, imagine you are just narrating something. People around you are listening carefully ( or pretending to). As you are going through whatever you are narrating, somewhere in between, you realise the actual futility of your narration. Not the effect or the consequence ( or lack thereof) on your audience, but the very process of the narration that you are in the middle of ?
Maybe it’s the music or the maybe it’s the wine, but deep within, a part of you suddenly realises the whole pointlessness of the moment. You give yourself a silent little invisible chuckle and carry on with your narration.
Somewhere a butterfly flaps its wings.
You know it doesn’t matter.
You don’t mind.
You just remember the chuckle – the feeling of the chuckle, the works.
That chuckle is the 119 minutes experience of watching Birdman. The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance. Can’t think of a single movie that has managed to capture the essence of the modern day living any more than Birdman. I think, in itself, this is an accomplishment.