Appreciating the arts gets corrupted by subjectivity. Can anything be pure?
Last night I watched Canadian filmmaker Guy Maddin's 1992 movie
Careful for the first time in years (since it hit home vid, way back). While I liked the years-ago screening, last night my reaction was markedly different: I loved
Careful.
I have to think about the film and my enjoyment of it before writing anymore. Then I can make some sense.
This much is sure: For all the times that Maddin has stated in interviews that he has always had an affinity for melodrama, nowhere is it solidified in his feature films, more than in
Careful. And the melodrama is delicious, here.
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