Review of Synecdoche, New York (2008) by Bryan W — 16 Aug 2010

I'm a firm believer in the precept that the best films are the ones that make you feel something, and the ones that get you thinking. Kaufman's massive, sprawling directorial debut earns every thought you could have about it without making you feel too much, the latter of the two superlatives being the film's only downfall.

Kaufman's matrices of reality take the simple precept of art imitating life and fold them endlessly in on themselves, simultaneously asking what life is about and answering that it's simply life.

It lacks purpose, direction, or definition, and any attempt to analyze it simply creates another subjective interpretation that may be wrong and further invite more subjective interpretation. Actors play actors.

Drama begets drama. Life and art smear incomprehensibly. Kaufman's unending fascination with this dichotomy could make a million movies, but the direct focus on this fascination takes away from the whole, not allowing the audience to feel the emotional beats despite the strenuous efforts of the actors.

It's hard not to be fascinated, but it's even harder to sympathize or empathize with the characters as if they were real people, which spoils the concept that we are watching art imitate life.

Nevertheless, the film provokes enough questions to last a lifetime while remaining entertaining throughout, and with such dense subject matter, that is an achievement in itself.