Spoilers ahead for 'Heights'.
I mentioned a while ago how I'd impulsively ordered the as-yet-unreleased Heights from America- well, it turned out to be a disappointment after all my anticipation. It was finely acted, sure- I suddenly feel the need to see everything Glenn Close has ever made; and James Marsden has only gone up in my estimation- but it was little more than just another one of those multi-stranded New York narratives that didn't really go anywhere. There are some wonderful felicities- Close's enrapturing renditions of Shakespeare, George Segal's wizened yet decidedly un-hip rabbi, the enigmatic Andrew Howard- but it takes a long while to go practically nowhere, and, when the surprising revelation came, I felt not surprise but annoyance. Not because of the hidden relationship between Marsden and Jesse Bradford- both provided poignant reasoning behind that- but because I'd been lied to about the character of Elizabeth Banks. Suddenly she doesn't want to be with Marsden at all? Did I miss something? Banks gives a perfectly fine performance, but I struggled to comprehend this sudden change of heart- all the while she had been protesting against her mother's (Close) cautionings, carefully rebuffing interested parties, and then all of a sudden she doesn't want him at all. I suppose I'm supposed to surmise that she was lying to herself? I think Heights is one of those films I could easily sit through again and enjoy a perfectly reasonable amount, but it is not what I wished it had been and was certainly not worthy of my delirious anticipation of it.
Also: Lindsay Lohan and Jude Law? Creepy. I wasn't sure if Lindsay could corrupt herself any further, then she goes and does so. Please, Lindsay. I still have some respect for you. Clean yourself up and get yourself another gig with a top director like Robert Altman. Then there'd be hope. Just... stay away from Jude.
This afternoon I go INLAND EMPIRE.. aring. *chews knuckles* I'm sitting through Factory Girl first, though... hopefully that'll take my mind away from the anticipation of the impending mind-fuck.