Mister Limbo

Mortals trying to figure out death is synonymous with mortals trying to figure out life: they can't. Their theories of "good guy" or not, or that flicker spark of 'am I a god who can forgive on behalf of others?', is remedial and drivel. The assurances that everything will be okay, or even an in-between space between death and what comes next wherein people tell you that everything will be okay, is Pollyanna at the Apocalypse. Pontifications in relaxed and hip vernacular are not even an interesting perspective, let alone intellectually stimulating. What is personally interesting here is that I lost a personal acquaintance amidst even writing this review, and I am damn sure that none of this b******t transpired over the past 24 hours!

People who like clear beginnings and endings, or at least films with a goal or journey probably won't like this one. No speaking at all until five minutes in, and even then, our lead is talking to himself. Waking up in the desert, wearing a parachute. Which did appear to open, so if he's dead, why is he dead?? So many questions. And never any answers. Like an ep of X files. But i'm okay with that part. Minimal script. There's lots of discussion of "am I a good person overall?". Lots of it. Pretty much all the talking is about judging one's self, or a higher being doing the judging. Walking the hot, dry, desert, but the characters never seem to eat. And some of them take drugs. More walking. Driving. End of film. If making or watching this film is solely for therapeutic reasons, i'd rather go sit on the beach. Made in the heart of covid, so that may have been a major influence. Written and directed by robert putka.