There is a weird sense of entitlement that runs through certain strand of indie cinema, one that argues that a certain kind of comfortable middle-class male angst is almost overwhelming. At the risk of generalising, it feels like a millennial anxiety, the sense that the world was promised to an eager young generation who have found themselves subsisting as passengers and background extras in a world that was supposed to bow to their whims.
The emotionally immature male protagonist who must learn to embrace his gift and be himself (or self-actualise or self-realise, depending on how you feel about the trend) is ubiquitous. It is arguably nothing new. Certainly, one can trace a clear lineage between the stock Woody Allen protagonist and any number of modern cinematic depictions of middle-class masculinity, from Listen Up Philip to Liberal Arts.
Filed under: Movies | Tagged: film, me and earl and the dying girl, non-review review, review | 4 Comments »
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