Movie Review: Greenberg
by practicalspactical
Greenberg sits to pen a letter to American Airlines, and suddenly I remember reading something about this book somewhere that told its story like that. Hmm. Curious. You know, I went to this movie thinking I was Greenberg — I don’t think I am — Greenberg’s a huge asshole, I’m usually not one, I tend to ignore people a little, I guess, self-defeating, lingering on the past, uncomfortable about getting mixed up into other people’s shit — do I hate people, though? Not really — I actually think I’m somewhat sympathetic of other people’s shit — GS’s shit, and MB’s shit, and ZR’s shit, absolutely, and the girls in my life’s shit — and I hate the shitty things I do —
Trying to do nothing. But so anxious about all that.
The heartbreakingly hilarious attempt to get back together with the woman who he left fifteen years earlier.
(The fear I have that fifteen years will go by and all my friends will grow up and have lives and I won’t.)
The uber-cliche “let’s talk to kids” at the party. Other great scenes: hilariously awkward oral sex scene. He’s terrible with women, but moreso, terrible to women. A self-involved asshole prick. Walking disappointment. Not to fragile for the world just — too big an asshole.
Still — hurt people hurt people. He is crazy and sad. But he takes care of the dog.
“My dog is sick.”
The Great Escape — running away to Australia with two twenty year old girls — “did you start an affair with Florence?”
Oh — and Florence, Florence — let me in, Florence. People to People to People. Lost. But Young.
The very interesting twist where the Obligatory Scene was actually between Greenberg and Ivan.
A strong movie. Redemption at the end? A little.
What was Noah Baumbach’s Dad like? I know what my Dad is like — a great guy. Why doesn’t he offer me advice? Tzimtzum maybe. He can’t do it for me.
I have to grow up, and be a man. And soon. Now. Do it now.
Procrastinating, seeing Greenberg instead of doing homework. Uh.
I’m almost done school. I feel this great inevitable sucking feeling, like time is now moving with such great inevitablity that I can only be pulled along by the torrent. It is frightening. My vacation from life is about to end. And hard.
(Why do I fear living? Stop, I want to say, Stop, it’s moving too fast. Let me out. Let me out and let me stay with someone.)
The influence of gaslight or electric light on the growth of paraheliotropic trees 