judasbooth wrote:The zombie child scene may well have created an impression on some people (even if, for me, it was came across as schlocky and stupid, seriously, if I had at least found it funny that would have been enough), but as I asked in my previous post, what purpose does it serve the narrative as a whole? Whose character does it develop? Would it make a blind bit of difference if it wasn't there at all? Provoking reactions in the audience is perfectly valid, but provoking a reaction for its own sake is, for me, utterly pointless. For me, simply provoking a reaction is just not enough, I'm afraid.
See, this is where I think we just accept that we're coming at the work and the critique from different angles. I can accept and respect that the scene had no impact on you, and I can see why you find it stupid. DKL's work, particularly in a scene like this, often tends to walk a line teetering dangerously on the edge of silliness, and I can see why you found the scene's over-the-top nature lame, even while I had a real visceral reaction. What I have a harder time with is your requirement that every scene serve a narrative purpose. For me, the best film IS all about "provoking a reaction." I'd rather watch a film that provokes visceral reactions in me (crying, laughter, horror, joy) than one with a great plot. Not that the two are mutually exclusive, and ideally a great film/series should have both. I love a film with a tight, brilliant narrative. But every piece doesn't need to have that for me to find it rewarding. I've referred to the style of TR as shaggy-dog storytelling elsewhere, and I love that about it. It can pause to enjoy moments of humanity, humor, and madness that don't have any particular relevance to the larger arc.
If you were to say that TP:TR is 5-6 hours of story stretched out to 3 times that length, I'd agree with you on some level. However, for me, those standalone "filler"/outlier moments and scenes are what have made this experience worthwhile, despite a "main" story that I haven't found super engaging (I think it was boske who rather aptly summed the plot up as Mr. C saying "I want those coordinates" in Parts 2-15). Should some of the standalone/shaggy-dog scenes have been saved for a deleted scenes reel? Probably. When Lost Highway came out, DKL himsef spoke about how enforced runtimes forced him to be objective when editing and ultimately improved his films. For instance, I'm thrilled we got the BV deleted scenes, but I'm so happy they're not in the main film. In an odd way, though, I'm sort of glad DKL decided to experiment with the "kitchen sink" approach this time -- and this I will freely admit is the DKL superfan/sycophant in me speaking. I said at the outset that I just wanted DKL to do whatever he wanted with the new show, and he has. It hasn't always been consistently great, or consistently anything really. It's often patchy and messy and sometimes flat-out baffling, even occasionally lazy. In a way, like you, I'm disappointed that (barring a big twist in the finale) DKL's first new work in ten years doesn't really seem to have a "grand statement" (a sort of "subconscious thesis") the way that almost all his prior films do (particularly the post-TP ones). But, accepting and reacting to the work as DKL chose to present it, it's been the scenes that don't serve a "purpose" that have made the experience wonderful for me: Dougie placing a poato chip on his kid's bed, the one-off Roadhouse slices of life, the "how are you today" bear, Steven & Gersten in the woods (a scene I disliked on first viewing but found to be an arresting claustrophobic mini-masterpiece -- there's that word! -- on rewatch).
It's well-written, and cleverly structured to maximise the sadness, but boy it's horrific. Reading it did at least reassure me that I hadn't become too jaded.
