On my morning out, I stopped by the Merritt Island Cobb to catch a matinee of Burn After Reading. And it left me feeling unfulfilled.
I can admire the Coen brothers' story-telling methods of having a colorful set of characters who get put into motion by personal motivations and forcing them to make difficult moral decisions.
But that's about it. The movie is about a cluster-f that doesn't so much get resolved as it gets summed up. The main redeeming factor for me was George Clooney, who was great -- from his little facial ticks to his look of deep-lost concentration; I felt that his character was the only one that got really fleshed out. Everyone else was felt hollow or secondary.
Anyways, perhaps I was just expecting a different movie. Bah.
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