I heard about this movie because the lead actress is apparently getting cancelled for being too white or something. I can’t be bothered to unravel the Byzantine complexities of this particular offense to the inflamed sensibilities of the martyrs to social justice but I went ahead and watched the movie.
To Leslie could have been great. The female star portrays a degraded, miserable alcoholic very well. The first half of the movie is exactly the kind of film I like. We see a messy, often sad, sometimes heartbreaking, occasionally ridiculous life. Everything is real, everything is just like it is. I started feeling hopeful it would actually be a good movie.
But then, of course, the ridiculous Hollywood obsession with massaging everything into an implausible happy ending swept in and turned the movie into a joke. To accommodate the silly contortion of the plot, the actors turn into plastic figurines, and everything falls apart.
The concept of an obligatory happy ending is one of the many gifts given to us by Christianity. I often hope, however, that this would be the gift we sometimes denied. This way we could enjoy something beyond the exact same saccharine story where everything always ends well in the exact same soporific manner.
The movie is a waste of time, in short.

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