IPhone 12 Pro Max, iPhone 13 Pro Max, iPhone 14 Plus: 1284x2778 IPhone Xs Max, iPhone 11 Pro Max: 1242x2688 IPhone X, iPhone Xs, iPhone 11 Pro: 1125x2436 IPhone 6 plus, iPhone 6s plus, iPhone 7 plus, iPhone 8 plus: 1242x2208 IPhone 6, iPhone 6s, iPhone 7, iPhone 8: 750x1334 IPhone 5, iPhone 5s, iPhone 5c, iPhone SE: 640x1136 IPhone: iPhone 2G, iPhone 3G, iPhone 3GS: 320x480 You can't _all _be related to him.MacBook Pro 13.3" Retina, MacBook Air 13" Retina, MacBook Air 13.3"(2020, M1): 2560x1600 Dual monitor: This sort-of-sequel to _Crash _feels uncomfortably like his explanation of what made _Crash _so great, but does anybody else think _Crash _was? ![]() Whatever you think of Wes Anderson, he isn't pleading for his own reputation to rate more respect, and that's what Haggis seems to be doing here. The novelist Neeson plays is a far more self-serving authorial projection, and Third Person's ode to an artist's ability to sort life's messes looks awfully lame next to _The Grand Budapest Hotel's _serene and capering magic tricks in the same vein. Then again, at least Fellini went ahead and made hisartistic stand-in in _8 1/2 _a movie director-and found some comedy in him too, along with pretension and pathos. As for Franco, he just turns up in his "Wish I was here" mode, and Brody seems tailormade for his director's more fatuous ambitions he acts as if he's never gotten over his regret that Federico Fellini died before discovering him. Kunis is as vibrant as usual-and no stranger to peekaboo screen riddles, thanks to _Black Swan-_but you'd be happier if you could dig her enjoyable razzmatazz without wondering how she fits into Haggis's scheme. imagination are somewhere between irrelevant and redundant. When you've got a cast this capable of humanizing whatever stereotypes they play, twee secondhand musings on reality vs. ![]() He's just tossed his sex-romp version of the literary life into the mix because he's a sucker for it, and you could wish he'd stayed with that impulse and dumpstered the deep-dish Shinola instead. The giveaway to Third Person's larger failings is that the erotic byplay works because it's got no connection to Haggis's big-picture scaffolding. With that tush, who'd need to be literate? Who'd want to? She's supposed to be a writer too, but your belief in that won't outlast Wilde scampering naked through hotel corridors once Neeson playfully locks her out of his room. Yet the fantasy hasn't totally lost its shlock-Hemingway appeal, and Neeson and Wilde get up to some believably wayward antics: games, one-upmanship, the kind of desire for each other that comes from old acquaintance rather than novelty. Oh, how I wish he'd stick to delivering quality product for other directors instead of mistaking himself for a man with a view of the world worth sharing. And at his most commercial, Haggis has played a key role in revitalizing the Bond franchise: Both _Casino Royale _and _Quantum of Solace _have his fingerprints on them. While his time-frame games (unless co-writer William Broyles was responsible) were subtly wrong for the always straightforward Clint Eastwood's _Flags of Our Fathers, _aka _Last Year at Iwo Jima, _his relatively unfancy script for Eastwood's Million Dollar Baby deserved its Oscar nomination. If he's glib-and since he's been successful in Hollywood, what else is new?-his taste for gimmicky construction can give you the impression that he's working hard to demonstrate glibness doesn't come easy to him. Not that his screenwriting skills are in much dispute. Really? Were Satan's minions having a slow day, like traffic cops wearily making their quota? Though it's strenuously crafted, entertainingly acted, and watchable enough, _Third Person, _Haggis's new movie, isn't exactly up there with Johnson's "Crossroads" or "Love in Vain." Still best known for cooking up one of the past decade's more "Huh?"-inducing Best Picture winners-2006's _Crash, _the kind of Sudoku movie in which apparently unrelated characters discover the profundity inherent in sharing the same script-writer-director Paul Haggis recently told the _New York Times _that he feels he's sold his soul to the devil in exchange for his creative gifts, just as legendary Delta bluesman Robert Johnson supposedly did back during the Depression. ![]() ![]()
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