Wiener-Dog

Questions asked.

Questions answered.

Romance blooming.

Pupils of film.

Granddaughter and Grandmother.

United, by wiener-dog.

Excessive sensitivity juxtaposed with sadists sincere, extreme disinterest expositionally generating love, scholastic rigour ridiculed reconstituted rescinded, the torments of a dying elderly woman in exacerbated psychotropical guilt.

Todd Solondz still excels at bluntly employing scatological strategies to sleuth sociological severance with miserable dis/ingenuous poignancy.

Although it's been so long since he released a film I briefly mistook him for Quentin Dupieux.

He hasn't lost his knack for satirizing master narratives which tend to explore similar themes with less oblique testimony, emerging to once again disseminate elite sadomasochistic observations which confess noteworthy cultural concessions that cripple as they catalyze to awkwardly lampoon obliviousness.

Even if Wiener-Dog elevates to disconcert by blending the tender loving with brutal flippancy, I still prefer John Waters.

Simultaneously admit uncontrollable bursts of laughter.

It's consistent the whole way through, although waiting 5 years for something this light as far as Solondz goes puzzles, as if he's disgusted with the possibility that someone may label this a comeback film.

Stronger than Café Society however.

You could say he loses sight of the story at times (little wiener-dog) but Wiener-Dog's more about extracting meaning from pointlessness than focusing on fluff, like engaged entropy that crushes the lives of wholesome loners.

Political correctness has changed so much recently this could be the new PC.

Archimedes.