Reviews

He kills himself at the end, finally, right? (He attempted suicide a few times before -- eg. by trying to drown himself on his marriage anniversary, and lastly in the theater with the real gun. (The nose we see after he removes the bandage is his delusional mind, telling him that "things aren't so bad", or something like that.)) And, in all likelihood, his daughter kills herself too. She always had a suicidal penchant for jumping off buildings (for very similar reasons -- lack of love from daddy), and when she finally partakes in Keaton's flying birdman delusions, that's the sign that she's dead too. She jumped.

I cried during his last performance when he shoots himself. It resonates extremely deeply with me -- being fake, unloved, an actor in a play, "an idiot, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage". Deep.

The dissonant discordant chaotic drumming music was genius -- perfect for the constant irritation and discomfort of having to lie and fake it.

There were many times when we weren't able to tell the acting from "reality". Genius. Eg. a bunch of times during the play rehearsals when we think that he's gone berserk and actually kills himself, or when he fakes having been beaten by his dad with Norton. And Norton does this too a few times. There were also many times when they were hyper-real. Eg. Norton sharing his fears and insecurities about masculinity (erection problems), and lack of connection (unable to be honest off stage), and Keaton with his fears about being a forgotten has-been, and being vulnerable (walking in underwear in a crowded city). These precious glimpses of reality were the guideposts to help figure out exactly what is going on. If it wasn't for them, the film would be a lot harder to penetrate, because the rest of the acting was kinda believable -- I could have convinced myself that it was simply about a guy with a playful imagination struggling to become a famous actor/director.

The second-guessing about whether what we just saw was real or fake was really trippy. Losing one's sanity / grip on reality is super frightening :s. Especially without anyone (a beloved) being a guide.

The camera work was superlative. It felt like a genuine and intimate portrayal of life in Jakarta. Although it really made me question the line between being a mere fly-on-the-wall observer (and thus providing a more authentic picture), and being an active participant. Most (perhaps all) the scenes involved incredibly tragic abuse and ignorance, including abusive psychological pressure to obey a religion (either the grandmother's Christianity, or the father's Islam), a hell-like hair-raising male circumcision scene, physical assault against an innocent girl for being too close to a boy (I'm not sure how the camera-man didn't intervene), rampant political corruption, and general disregard for education (they prefer watching fighting fish on TV, rather than learning to use a gas stove or other more prudent studies). But such lifestyles are still the norm throughout the world, not just in Indonesia, so the film serves as important documentary evidence of the present state of our species.