I loved when its medium shots suddenly broke through into tight closeups for its important conversations towards the end. I loved the imposing monolithic oil structures of America standing over Nicholson in its beginning. And in between, we get great character work for a reprehensible character. 

I wish that the surrounding ensemble, almost entirely women, existed for any reason other than Nicholson to act around. There’s room for a real ensemble piece here. 

Instead, the film comments on the drifters, the yuppies, the alienated loners that America creates. Watching a man who doesn’t know what he wants — instead, knowing only that he despises it all — is somehow discouraging rather than enlightening in 2023

Maybe I’m getting old, but these days I’d rather see a film about finding meaning, instead of running from it.

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