By Damien Krsteski
[MY WIFE] dragged me to one of her company cocktail parties.
“Sure I’ve seen it,” I said to a middle-aged woman who had blabbered to me, champagne in hand, for the better part of an hour.
“Really? What did you think of it?”
The subject was the latest [MOVIE DIRECTOR]’s film, a supposed existential masterpiece I’d only read about in my newsfeed.
“It’s the finest of the decade,” I quoted the review. “The way he plays with light in the death scene to convey a sense of despair is absolutely mind-blowing and indicative of his style.”