A disgusting, tortuous film with nothing to say.

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I had forgotten how much I disliked A Single Man and was drawn back into another adventure written and directed by Tom Ford only to hate myself for it. How could I be so stupid in wanting to see this film? But alas, it was the free tickets I received for it that sweetened the oh so sour and tortuous two hours I sat in the cinema for. Not knowing what the film was truly like, I invited my mother along to see it with me and what a regrettable decision that was. She left within the opening shot and I was surprised I tortured myself to last the whole film. The first thing I want to see on screen is dancing naked bodies. It’s the last thing I want to see when I go to the movies anyway so starting of with this, and calling it art? It was down right disgusting, off putting, and I don’t blame my mother for leaving when she did.

This whole film was a disgusting trash that calls itself art when it blatantly isn’t. It was more style then substance but whatever the film called style, wasn’t style at all. Amy Adams make up was too heavy while she was working and her make up while she was younger more suitable to Adams as a person. That and poor Armie Hammer just looked like he had a bad fake tan that was way to dark for him and he looked like he was covered with make up. Whoever was responsible for the make up on this film door an extremely poor job.

I think one of the major problems with this film is that it has too many things going on. Although it kind of makes sense at the end, it just feels like an amalgamation of elements that should’ve worked well but just ends up sterile. It’s like one of Susan’s off putting artworks at her gallery. It’s disgustingly painful, horribly acted with the majority of the performances overwhelmingly fake and unbelievable, and full of too many flashbacks that often get too confusing.

The film is desperate to say something but isn’t sure what and just gets lost on the way, thus resulting in saying very little. Nocturnal Animals is trying to philosophical, trying to reach for that deeper meaning that a story of this kind would never reach. This can be linked to the lack of proper emotional connection to either Adams or ex-husband in Jake Gyllenhaal’s character, a key factor in connecting the audience to the story being told on screen and fully immersing us for the length of the film. I often checked my phone to see what time it was and how much longer I had to suffer through the hell that was this film. One might say that there might be something that as an audience member you might be drawn to, wanting to find out what would happen to the protagonists, but ultimately — you could care less.

There were also characters that had a one off appearance and could have been removed entirely, focusing on Adams’ character and her connection with Gyllenhaal, furrowing deep into her past so we could see what makes her tick and what made her the character she is in the present string of events.

Despite a truly painful thought process of trying to figure out what each of the parallel story lines meant to one another and attempting to understand the apparently “clever” parallels, the major feeling that I was left with was, “so what?” Maybe writer, director, producer Tom Ford should stick to fashion as clearly, he’s not doing a great job with his filmmaking. Filmmaking is about having something to say and until he learns this fundamental thing you need to make films, this is not an industry for him.

The only true positive I can see in this film is that if someone like Tom Ford can get his film funded, filmed, and distributed internationally with such an awful piece of work, that at least gives me some glimmer of hope for myself as a writer.

Film-O-Meter: 0/10.

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