This movie wants to tell you there is heaven at the end of hell and attempts to do so by putting you through the movie hell of viewer annoyance, while the plot tries to illustrate the hell of obsession with fame.
Ultimately it fails, because it’s a buddy-buddy flick for people in the industry to feel good about themselves and their relentless search for relevance, while its references to twitter and youtube pander directly to the masses of idiots clamoring for their own insignificant taste of the same. In this last goal it succeeds, because it gave the semi-literate IMDBers an avenue to also explore and praise another offbeat, jazzy, “Kafkaesque,” piss poor Charlie Kaufman imitation.
Kaufman was the kind of guy that would put his entire soul on display, while remaining breathtakingly precise, and still managing humor. This movie has funny moments, and is not entirely terrible, but if you’re comparing to the best of the “genre,” it doesn’t even register.
If you’re a budding cinematographer or director, maybe you will be impressed that most of it was filmed as a single shot. Yet it shoots itself foot in mouth so many times you are forced to roll your eyes the way you did when idiots in high school started following the socially popular kids who turned out to be low achievers. It’s a mildly entertaining side of porridge, but it won best picture because the Academy will reward sycophants above all (quelle surprise). May the sons of Dis envelop all and any who heap on it unworthy praise.