Whoever put together the trailer
for Inherent Vice deserves a bloody
huge medal, because only a magician in the editing room could've disguised one the
most frustrating watches in recent memory as a slick, slacker whodunit in the
same vein as The Big Lebowski.
Instead what we get is a film that’s as impenetrable as a junkie's mind-set (“but
that’s the point!”, say Thomas Pynchon enthusiasts; “piss off”, says me) and a
host of cool-looking characters that fail to do or say anything remotely
memorable. At 149 minutes long, it feels like being a sober person trapped in a
crack house, surrounded by mumbling stoners that occasionally laugh at each
other’s incoherent jokes.
1/5
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