Amszterdam

It is beautifully shot and acted (Christian Bale never ceases to amaze me, this time with that transformation from fresh recruit to war veteran, and Taylor Swift is very good too, hopefully she'll get more opportunities), and Daniel Pemberton's score gives it the feel of a beautiful dream you have before waking up, not unlike Leone's Once Upon a Time in America. But the story, the story! I hadn't seen something so banal, shallow and uninteresting for a long time and after a promising opening three-quarters of an hour, disappointment slowly began to set in until it finally arrived completely. But the potential was definitely there; the Coen brothers could have certainly squeezed the most out of it. David O. Russell failed to do so. (2023.01.13)

The story feels like told by Grampa Simpson. In David O. Russell's overwrought and self-indulgent script, the very simple plot that the director and screenwriter in one person are unsuccessfully trying to tell disappears under layers of constant digressions and unnecessary exposition. At just over 130 minutes, it feels like a bland four hours. The colour palette of fifty shades of brown and the annoying antics of the acting elite don't add much to it either. It's been a long time since I've been so annoyed by the blind pomposity of a film and its maker, so it's good that the cinema attendance has fallen hard on its face. (2023.01.06)