This movie wasn't exactly a cinematic masterpiece, but oh, the model of the new ultra-modern building at the architectural firm truly stole the show. The quaint town, in a desperate bid to revamp their cozy downtown, decided to go full dystopian. They commissioned a high-rise that was the epitome of bleak - a gray, windowless monolith that could easily be mistaken for a gigantic parking garage.
The town planners, in their infinite wisdom, decided that the roof of this dreary edifice would be the town's new social hotspot. Because obviously, when you think of lively gatherings, a parking garage rooftop springs to mind.
And then, as if this architectural wonder wasn't already a marvel, the planners added another 10 stories of 'residential space' above. These living quarters were so laughably small, residents could barely fit inside. One might stand there, sandwiched between the walls, staring out into the void, thinking, "Why do I live here? My 'apartment' can't even fit a bed, and I have to limbo dance just to get through the door."
In this movie, the building model wasn't just a structure; it was a bold statement on the absurdity of modern urban planning, a tongue-in-cheek nod to the lengths we go to in the name of progress.
