This is a commendably honest film. Caveh Zahedi almost seems to use film as a method of confessional. It could have been pretentious but due to the taboo nature of the subject it feels almost benevolent. I mean half way through the film I hated this guy. A lot. We watch as Caveh's addiction destroys relationship after relationship, and hits new highs of perversity and misogyny . The issue at hand is the fact that this film really could have been about 45 minutes and not the 98 minutes.
The film functions as almost a visual memoir to a portion of the life of director Caveh Zahedi. It feels somewhat like a documentary that relies completely on reenactment and narration. We are told about Caveh's first love, and the first time he meets a prostitute all the way up to him impending third marriage.
The film Is really quite funny. It has some of the most deadpan humor you will ever see. Its filled with little asides like asking us to pretend San Francisco is Paris or clandestinely informing us an actress in the film is actual a pornography star. Comparisons to Woody Allen will happen basically immediately as both actors share that same nebbish quality. The acting by Caveh is really quite good but nothing to brag about since he is just playing himself. The problem is that many other characters feel like they are only one step up from a powerful episode of Hard Copy.
This film was an interesting watch for me. It started out funny and shockingly honest. As the film progressed I was so sick of seeing the same problems come up over and over again. The jokes get old as Caveh becomes less of someone you could really feel for. We watch him go through the depths of his addiction and keep wondering when the hell is gonna get some damn help. When the end finally comes you'll be happier the film is over than that Caveh has curbed his addiction.
3/5 "Good for a while but outstays its welcome."
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