Will Cinema Get Brave Again?

They’ve been calling Kristoffer Borgli this year’s enfant terrible, and I can’t be bothered to figure out why. I’ve been avoiding all The Drama drama. I’ve fully opted out. Deep within my brittle bones I’ve grown more than fatigued by the cinematic discourse du jour. I’ve started to feel its weight, like a particularly evil germ, haunting my digestive tract. I think if I ever see another critic, instead of reviewing the actual film itself, opine about why some plot point or character or conception is problematic, about why a film should take risks but not those risks, and why a film should disturb the comfortable but not us and our comfort, or a thousand other rhetorical cul-de-sacs I can only ever read in the tone of a person (you know the type) who claps for emphasis with each patronizing word . . . I think if I ever have to see anything like this again, I’ll spontaneously combust.