Reviewing Netflix's I'M THINKING OF ENDING THINGS
I'M THINKING OF ENDING THINGS, a new Netflix film directed by Charlie Kaufman, based upon the novel by Iain Reid, is, in many ways, the ultimate "unreliable narrator" film, surpassing FIGHT CLUB, to a degree. Though, I don't consider FC the benchmark for that literary/storytelling device, rather it felt similar since the main characters in both films are the same person, despite appearing to be separate entities.
About halfway through the film, I realized "Lucy" wasn't the main character, though Kaufman had forced that perspective on the audience as a misdirection.
Some of the more truthful moments for Jake came from his/the disillusioned recollections of his father, the speech about time and dementia being the most "realistic" moment of the character's overall disillusionment. It was a moment in which I could distinguish the character was talking for someone, rather than about himself.
The seemingly disparate moments from the stage play OKLAHOMA, dancing teen in the high school hallways, a dog shaking rain off its back perpetually, the unrelenting blizzard only snowing on the car, are all fragmentations of moments in Jake's life; his means of coping with isolation due to memory loss, reaching their fever pitch, hallucinations as much as memories, in a way.
I went through a series of trials from awe, to anger, to sadness, and indifference, and all of those feelings combined helped inform a strong bond with the movie to my sensibilities as a writer and director.
But, damn, do I never want to sit through those bloated, volumetrically over-worded car rides ever again. The benchmark for any film, in terms of my endearment toward a film, is whether or not I feel like i can watch it again.
I don't know that I can watch I'M THINKING OF ENDING THINGS again. And, maybe with time, I'll forget why I couldn't seem to enjoy the movie.
