Search found 1 match: Danny Boyle

danny boyle remains the go-to guy for vanity pieces reducing heartrending human dramas into hyperactive music videos, as evidenced by this soulless (but hip as fuck, so it's ok!) exercise in stylistic panache and razzmatazz, where attempts at drama are little more than gloopy emotional rimshots revolving around messages both obvious and trite (pushing away the people who care about you will come back to haunt you!).

boyle has only a cursory interest in the story he's telling, as epitomised by the crude, watery hallucinations supposed to constitute his subject's grand epiphany; he will try ANYTHING to prevent his film from being just a raw depiction of a man and a rock, when a better and braver director would've trusted his actor (a point to which james franco's stubbornly respectable performance attests), made use of the long stretches of silence and stillness, letting scenes breathe and forging presence out of absence, allowing an existential weight to press down upon proceedings. instead it's another pile of masturbatory garbage for the ADD generation, at best exploiting human suffering for cheap crowdpleasing melodrama.