New York's bad boy Director is back with another artsy, avant-Garde, personal picture that is surely nothing if not a cranky creation aimed against the mainstream and the Hollywood system. An ultra-low budget display for all the film-school and frustrated filmmakers to show them how to get it done without corporate backing and studio sucking up.
In this film he takes on, no less, the end of the world with a nod to Al Gore, the Dalai Lama, and Buddhism, and other peace-nick people. A left wing shout out to sensitive souls who might just have seen it all coming.
The movie has some beautiful cinematography (not usually one of the Director's traits) and the small cast is on the mark and it makes for a meditation on the madness of our times. There are some indulgences that are unnecessary and distracting (long close ups of sex) that adds nothing and subtracts somewhat, although it fits the theme: loss of lovely things. But overall it is a thoughtful and timely thesis that is an understated, overwhelming passion play. The passion for what is about to be no more.
