The fact that I watched this entire, nearly three-hour, film, despite the fact that it is basically a repetition of the same fifteen minutes over and over and over again, speaks volumes. The film is somehow intoxicating, even hypnotic, thus evoking the very sort of psychological affect which it portrays. Despite the fact that the film is extremely depressing and pointless, we continue on, just as the characters continue on with their depressing and pointless lives as they spend their days scraping heroin dust off of phone books and coughing like tuberculosis victims in between drags off of foil and cigarettes. The film, in other words, self-referentially reflects itself, which is probably why it received critical acclaim but is hated by some "ordinary" filmgoers.
Review of In Vanda's Room
