A Disappointing Continuation

Although I seem to have had higher expectations than I thought, the movie is super entertaining.

Great example of an old-fashioned, pure-at-heart escapist event movie that doesn't pretend to be anything that it's not and has boat loads of fun being its own ludicrous self.

Through painfully honest and emotional moments, the movie becomes irresistibly relatable

This film is not entertainment. It is so strange, I find it psychotic. Nothing in it, or the multitude of sub-stories strung together from beginning to end, have meaning. No characters are likable, comprehensive or sane.I purchased this film based upon reviews as a "masterpiece". They lied.

I admire the film making and the art direction for The Forbidden Room, but while it initially dazzles, it quickly becomes rather tedious. There is no real payoff for the effort it takes to sit through it, and it does take some effort. The most entertaining part for me is the opening titles. The only movie I can compare it to is Stalker, and it isn't a fair comparison. While both share the washed-out, sepia tone Lynch-like visual style, Stalker has a discernible plot beyond just its style. I'd love to intellectualize the film and say it has deeper meaning, but outside of the art direction and distressed film look, after sitting through it I've decided there is just no "there" there.

Preposterous and Playful, Postmodern Surrealism, is a Stab at Defining the Work of Director Guy Maddin. His Influences may be David Lynch, Luis Bunuel, Salvador Dali, Silent Movies, Jackson Pollock, and the (Kitch)en Sink.Maddin is a Maddman, Maniacally making Movies that are so Visually Stunning that it is Possible to Enjoy His Art like Wallpaper. You can even turn the Sound Off (although even His aural chops are interesting sound samples). Back in the Psychedelic Sixties, Clubs and Private Parties often included, as Ambiance, Visual Projections on the wall for Background and Atmosphere that Added an Other Worldly Feel and a Treat for those Experiencing an Altered State of Consciousness.This Film attains that Disconnect with Saturation of Colors and Bizarre Images that have Tenuous Connections to what is Going On. What is Going On is in the "Eye of the Beholder" as the Filmmaker makes very Little Attempt at Continuity or Commonplace. Things seem to be there for Wonderment and Awe and if it makes some sort of Sense, so be it.The Joy in Watching Maddin's latest Film is in the Richness of the Retro, Painted with Modern Technological Techniques that Mimic Ancient Technological Techniques that Stimulate Synapsis with a Dopamine Enhancing External Input of Unfamiliar Familiarity.Forget about Storytelling, that is a Hook that Maddin only Hints at and when He does it is with a Giggle and a Guffaw. This is Eyeball Popping for Eyeball Popping Sake. It is Splashed on the Screen with a Purpose that has very Little Purpose other than to Stimulate and Entertain. It's Low-Brow Flourishing with High-Brow Conceit.It's the Kind of Film (and there are very few like it) that makes Wes Anderson's Work seem Mainstream. This could be Enjoyed in 30 Minute Splashes because Nothing is Really Connected.It's a Kaleidoscope of Thin Threaded Attachment that doesn't Require or Expect a Two Hour Concoction of This Sort to be Anything but Spurts of Quirky Nonsense done with no other Purpose than to Unreel, Impress, and Unreel some more, and Provoke, then Unreel, Unreel, and it is all Gloriously and Completely Unreal.

On the face of it, this silly story within story romp through Saturday morning films of a previous generation should be ignored.It is not a pastiche - and the strange punk lurid dream style is both art and annoyance. But the style is to no useful end. And to force an audience to revisit bad early American cinema 'somewhere between Berlin and Bogotá' for 2 hours, with gentle mocking of early 20th century sexual strictures, is quite unfair.It plays out as being more appropriate for a repeating segment in a high concept sketch show than a cinema production. A short experiment of 15 minutes maybe. But to inflict real people to this at full film length seems strangely tragic.