Review of You Hurt My Feelings

If it gives you intellectual pleasure to see first-world, entitled upper-middle-class ordinary people lamenting about the boring, marginal conflicts of their lives, from which nothing emerges, then that film is for you. It's like getting Woody Allen's art without Woody Allen's art. No energy, no excitement, just a struggle against the constant urge to fall asleep or turn the film off and watch something more interesting instead. Elegant, sophisticated, subtle, nuanced - these are the words that might be used to describe You Hurt My Feelings by those who tend to confuse lack of content with content. Make no mistake, I could bear to watch snippets of humourless people's inconsequential lives, if at the end all the incoherent puzzle pieces came together into something worthwhile in a meta sense. I don't expect catharsis, I gave up on that in the first half hour. But it should evoke ANY emotion. Well, it didn't...