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Sophia Mitri Schloss,
John Gallagher Jr.
"Love After Love" is horrid wretched film, which, unbelivably, has received universally positve press reviews, which is utter and irksome madenss. A family's response to the death of their husband and father is to crudely "act out" in an uncontrolled manner. The "raw family drama" is about a unremittingly boring family, with no depth of character, no sense of transcendance while mechanically flailing, instead of seeking professional "grief" counseling as they seek relief in abudnant (gotta have nude scenes, don't we) wanton sex. The film does not establish where it takes place, a New York State car plate being the only clue. Their well-appoined house is on a lovely lake so they've got money. Where? They work at jobs, but what do they do? There are scenes in a city. What city? They are grieiving for a humdrum man who appaently smoked himself to death. Some role model, huh? The film jumps from scene to scene with no sense of the time line. The jazz soundtrack, merits the reviewers praise but is always at very high volume which if it was played at something lower than earspliting gain, would have been nice to listen to. Acting wise something akin to improvisation is happening, apprently to mirror John Cassavetes, but absent any of the verge or energy of JC, in a film like "Faces". Andie Macdowell's performance comes off as that of an actor self-consciously mocking-up an Academy award winning performance, and looking as reviews kept repeating: radiant. (She must have been constantly asking herself "Am I acting sufficiently significant?") Chris O'Dowd's character is unforgivingly repellent as he vulgarly sexes his way toward peace of mind with his mourning. What utterly boring characters, in a film of 91 minutes that seem to go on pointlessly for hours. The film abruptly wraps up with a happy family scene in a hot tub, all sweetness and light with one another, which after all the "raw" interaction was a cinematic non-sequitur. This film will fade from public memoy, probably faster than my own, since after opening on April 1, 2018, as of May 6, its box office was a mere $107,630, which was enough to just about cover catering and cast transportation. Sorry Andie, even though you got to do your mandatory first nude scene at 60, your Academy awards chances appear slim.
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