Cometh the emperor...

Rating: 4/10 (16 April 2005)

This film must be the ultimate example of the "Emperor has no clothes" syndrome, not to mention the combined degeneration of both Hollywood and the general movie-going public.
To start this naked but well-dressed festival, we have two lovers (Carrey and Winslet) with absolutely no on screen chemistry. The plot thickens -- lots of artsy photography with little substance (ala "The Cell" or "Vanilla Sky"), and it continues its well-plotted plotlessness with, well, no real plot to speak of.
The silliness continues with soap-opera intensity, as we get a bizarre love triangle between the memory doctor and Kirsten Dunst, as well as Winslet and several servings of Sum Yung Guy.
The film ends with a deep examination of the shallow question: "Is it better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all?" A pointless question if there ever was one, as one has either loved or not loved, and therefore need not inquire.
Abstract art is often accused of being pointless and artless, a false accusation if there ever was one -- there's talented abstract art, and untalented abstract art, and it's not hard to pick which is which if you have any sort of eye for talent. In the same vein, there are "arty" films that are truly artistic, as well as pretentious vehicles designed to make money and help shallow people weep crocodile tears of joy at the sheer depth of it all. Unfortunately, ESOTSM is of the latter category.
Can we dress the big fat guy wearing the crown now?