It’s not pacing, tone, or color scheme that truly unites Demy’s work, but rather worldview: That life is full of phantasmagorical pleasures... and that all of them will inevitably be crushed before us, whether in the name of war, work, or anything else.
All conversations regarding this movie eventually arrive at the same one-sentence conclusion: “Man, isn’t it crazy that you could have kids talking like that back then?”
At once humanist and grotesque, elegant and acidic, Listen Up Philip cuts down an entire culture of self-mythologizing white male creators.
William Friedkin’s last film is a horrific experience built from innumerable disgraces of the human flesh, verbal and physical. It’s also really fucking funny.