A fascinating film, perhaps, for the uber elite who live in the rarefied world of privileged exceptionalism, where the life of the common person is a vague, if non-existent reality, and are instead obsessively immersed in a self absorbed universe of which they are perpetually at the center of.
As for the portrayal of such, Elisabeth Moss does convincingly deliver her character with a unique sense of familiarity.
The problem I had with this film is not the story itself, which probes into the frailties of the human condition within this rarefied social ecology, but rather with the pathetic nature of all of these nauseatingly self absorbed characters, none of whom I would ever have anything in common with, even under the most demanding of required social circumstances.
Call me a "salt of the earth" servile dolt if so inclined, if such makes you feel more self important, but what this film did do is remind me why I have specifically avoided spending any amount of time or effort becoming enmeshed in the dramatic pathologies of the supposedly social elite, which this film does deliver a compelling depiction of.
This general environment I'm quite familiar with, having had my more than my share of exposure into this sort of universe . . . and opting out of it completely.
As for the film itself as an art piece, it is an interesting voyage into the disintegrating psyche of fragile, needy people.
Deciphering exactly where the boundaries were between the actual realities of the moment, and the collage of flashbacks and self induced fantasies which would jaggedly pop in and out of the story thread was a bit exhausting at times, but overall this was a brave attempt to deliver a multi-threaded tapestry of intersecting plots which clearly would have been easily rendered in written form, but compressing such into a film would be much more demanding.
