A movie about a selfish, fictionalised, elderly, frail, ill and once-heralded documentary filmmaker (played by Richard Gere), whose docs seem to have been all but forgotten bar the aficionados, agrees to an all-day interview to recount his life and career, and which the producer pitches as a means to re-establish his credentials for a new generation.
Sadly, it's nothing more than an ego trip for Gere, perhaps hoping this film will get him an Oscar nomination, which is risible given he can't act and is the same bland baloney sandwich in everything. Uma Thurman plays his wife and supposed muse but she has so little to do and say with such a two-dimensional character, it's inexplicable why she even bothered to do this. The same can be said of Michael Imperioli's role, and all those of All the other characters - they're nothing but shadows: no depth or complexity or shine.
Worse, the ploddingly insipid-sounding songs (reminiscent of Nick Drake but with none of the talent) as scene music/ambience are as dull as the script - or rather, the "pretentious literary drivel" as the filmmaker once accurately remarks of his own pathetic, early and failed attempt at being a novelist - and the tiresome, vacuous flashback scenes all pile one atop another to hammer home the same banal point: that Gere's character is utterly selfish, feckless and incredibly dull. Why anyone of the women in his life ever wanted to sleep with him, or spend time with him, is as incomprehensible as why anybody would want to speak with such a bland blancmange of a personality.
Unless you're looking for a cure for insomnia, or a good reason to throw/shout something at your screen while watching this, save yourself six hours of your life - ok, so it's 90 mins -but it Feels like six - and do something more meaningful instead, like watch Pity (2018), the brilliant foreign film by Babis Makridis.
