Starts off strong, with a few promising threads of urban whimsy lingering through the halfway mark, but eventually gets mucked up in a gummy cloud of rue and melancholy, not to mention magic realism. Maybe I would have liked it better if I had seen it before Take This Waltz, which strikes me as a much more engaging and detailed (also, yes, more conventional) tour of some of the same territory. But The Future is a hard film for me to dislike, in part just because some of Miranda July’s deep thoughts about aging are familiar to me, but also because her critique of annoying hipster archetypes seems painfully self-aware.
After a promising prologue, Waking Ned Devine quickly devolves into a slight, sleep-inducing “comedy” that plods so deliberately from gag to alleged gag that nothing comes as a surprise. Due largely to the efforts of a journeyman group of character actors, it all goes down very smoothly. But at the end of those 91 minutes, when I realized that the music was swelling, the vista was sweeping, and the credits about to scroll, I was afflicted with a bad case of “and then what happened?” Continue reading