“If we screw this moment, we try the next. And if we fail the next… we have our whole lives to get it right.”–Chloe
When writing these commentaries, I usually don’t read the reviews until I have all or most of mine
done because, well, anxiety of influence. Nevertheless, sometimes certain themes are easily predictable. With Mood Indigo, it’s the film’s use of visuals. It’s incredibly over the top in this regard. At best, they are effective poetic shorthand for emotional events in the film. At worst they are just weirdness for weirdness’ sake that makes the film too much of a one-trick pony. A tad bit more restraint, and it might have come off more like the thoughtful and provocative piece it’s so obviously trying to be and less like an extended film school project.
Okay, so now I can peek: 62% critic and 53% audience. Yeah, I’ll go with that.
It’s not that Mood Indigo doesn’t have anything going for it. It does. Audrey Tautou is great, as always; some of it’s pretty humorous; and the sheer craziness of it is at least always interesting. The excess of clever quips among the reviews, in itself, stands as a testament to the films inventiveness. John Anderson of Newsday calls it, “A mad mix of what Tex Avery, Rube Goldberg and the silent-film fantasist Georges Melies might have come up with if they’d put their feverish heads together.” And John Beifus, commenting on the contrast between the upbeat first half of the film and the not so upbeat second half concludes, “The effect is that of Pee-wee’s Playhouse slowly sinking into the dank tarn that claimed Poe’s House of Usher.” It’s just that one gets the feeling it could have been so much better.