Full Frontal
dir. Soderbergh
opens Fri August 2
Fox Tower
What does Hollywood love more than anything? Jennifer Lopez? No. Fake boobs? No. Cocaine? No, of course not! Jesus! What Hollywood loves more than anything is, of course, itself. And Steven Soderbergh’s new film, Full Frontal, is another example of Hollywood jerking off all over itself but if you think about it, watching Hollywood jerk off on itself is rather intriguing, now isn’t it?
Full Frontal catalogues the difficultly of maintaining a monogamous relationship when married to some rich record executive, and having to deal all the while with Ben Affleck trying to get in one’s panties. It shows how fucked up and stupid starlets act in regards to sex and love, because they’re never 100 percent invested in either. The film jokes about how Julia Roberts falls in love with any old lighting guy that kisses her ass, which is true, but funny, but I guess we’re supposed to be charmed that Hollywood can poke fun at itself, even though those rich dicks are really like that.
In the same way that the spoofing causes your mind to spiral, the film goes in crazy directions with its portrayal of reality. Shot on film and video, the film is a film within a film within a film and I can’t say for sure what the point of the trickery is, other than maybe the writer is saying that actors are always acting even in their real lives. Which totally isn’t true, because, as we all know, Brad and Jennifer spend tons of time curled up in their little cottage, discussing real things like existentialism, September 11th, and of course, the Aveda hair stick.
While this film is innovative in concept and shooting, somewhat interesting (the narration is a little droning), and insightful into the plight of a star, it lacks something essential: Sex. Nope. Not one bit of sex in the whole movie. People talk about sex, worry about it, fight about it, but do they have it? No, they do not. And I just personally think that a movie with a suggestive title like Full Frontal owes me a little bit of booty. I mean, come on!