There is something deeply touching and oddly disarming about this wonderful film, but as the above poster comments, the film does not quite fulfill its remit.
I have watched this film on a number of occasions because of its sombre dream-like quality - the juxtaposition of slap-in-the-face reality and those almost womb-like immersions into Buddwing's memories.
The score is brilliant, the lighting dramatic and memorable.
The cast - brilliant, but it pains me to say this as a massive, massive fan of James Garner - he shows his limitations as an actor in this one.
Note the self-naming scene. "Bud.....wing.... I..have a name" too dozy, and that crying scene after he faced off with the madman who claimed he was god. Poor Jimmy looked like he'd be pepper-spayed.
However, because of Garner's form, I like this film even more. Garner's character should be vulnerable, extremely so, because of his predicament. To see Garner himself vulnerable and out of his league in the role works almost better than great acting would. And what was that look on his faced when Grace-2 asked him if was "one of those AC/DC types" ??
There's still something magical about Garner's presence. He's a winner.
The film comes across as a stage play adapted for film - a piece of beat poetry acted out by conservatives. Strange, half realized, surreal, and finally a flawed gem.
