Incoherent even unto itself

Rating: 1/10 (2 November 2015)

Now for those who want to take an over extended facile metaphor and glorify it as art, then this might be for you. I would suggest you go and see the original metaphor of Duchamp's urinal; indeed this film is what you put in aforementioned cultural artefact.
Indeed any cultural import this digital decadence may tenuously have is that it itself is symptomatic of a nihilistic post-modern anomie, the lost world of the religiosity of the self, where just because you have idea everyone must be burdened by it. In the words of chairman Mao "just because you break wind, doesn't mean I have to sniff it"
This facile confused dystopian narrative can only be compared to some over-indulgent self-absorbed up its own solipsistic end of year Art Show; if Tracy Emmmin made movies even she wouldn't make this. Well maybe?
Be warned even watching a Benny Cumberbatch period drama wont clear out the detritus of this movie from your psyche as your fatigued mind tries to piece this nonsense together for the "cult" director. In fact I'd rather join a cult and deal with that psychological fall-out than the trite banalities I was subjected to in the dark by this nonsense.
Even the sound track on its own drives you to distraction and in all likelihood to a migraine. The violence of the film is random and brutal; which was ironic as I chose it instead of going to the latest Bond romp because I was not in the mood for stylised violence. Believe me that was the only irony I experienced during this film
I confess the only reasons I stuck it out was that I am a tight fisted Scotsman who will get his money's worth, even if that is just sitting in a warm cinema; that it was an art house cinema and I figured that sometimes you have to suffer for that kind of indulgence and lastly I had a forlorn hope that there might be a disclaimer at the end apologising for the waste of my life and high jacking my psyche and that I might be able to claim some kind of refund on the grounds of diminished responsibility in the face of directorial indulgence, at least that would have been the decent thing, cause I sure as hell would not have done this to him.
My worry though dear reader is, you read this review and it might encourage the curious to go see. That is what the so-called premise of the film did to me; believe me it doesn't even hold it own.
If you have to see this movie then treat it like you are going to see a brutal car accident in slow motion that will require to be enacted in your head accompanied by a relentless jarring sound track forever!
Or you can save yourself the sheer monotonous pain and let me take the bullet for you.
On a lighter note the film is so bad that the ridiculous stultifying dialogue and direction actually make Colin Farrell look like he is actually acting, so good type casting there!
Now if you think I have been indulgent you haven't seen this, whatever this is?