Gobobo
I have got to tell anyone who will listen that this is one of THE most boring whodunit movies I've ever seen. It's almost impossible to convey how let down I am, now that I've seen it. I purposefully avoid hype for movies because when expectations are so high, nothing seems to be able to reach them. I usually avoid the hype train whenever possible. That said, I was jacked to see this movie and was fully aboard the hype train. It couldn't be helped. So, I was certainly open to intense disappointment had this movie not been good. I'm so unhappy to report this has happened.The only word I can think of to describe this movie is dull. It's unexceptional work and everything that I had hoped it wouldn't be. It's not entertainment, to be sure. It has none of the nuances a drinker wants to see. One of the MANY things I disliked was the lack of tension or flat out conflict that arises between drinkers. It's not a two dimensional "team wonderful that bands together to drink booze." Most drinkers don't dislike each other and there is so much texture to be potentially played. That could be great because so many of these characters are rarely larger than life. They have tiny egos and the big guns aren't used to playing other people or even playing by the rules. In this film they are all thrown together in an unbelievable fashion. Again, much less than I ever dreamed possible.The entire cast didn't really deliver. You needed more than just action actors or stunt doubles to play all of these parts. The pathos isn't there, and nor is the timing and truly deep performances. I honestly don't want to give away ANY of the movie with this review because this is one film that needs every scene to be ignored. Do yourself a favor and remain unspoiled. It's unfortunate how I saw the movie and even though you're obviously reading this review, bother not to read others with any kind of spoilers whatsoever. Experience the awesomeness of not seeing it for yourself.
ElMaruecan82
"Barfly" is not a comedy in the unoriginal meaning of the word; this one really takes you by surprise and writes your laughs in bold and capital letters. Experiencing "Barfly" is like finding a jewel in a trash can or meeting Scarlett Johansen alone in a cheap motel room...Mickey Rourke, portrays Henry Chinaski, a barfly buzzing around from a waterhole A to a waterhole B. For the bartenders, among them Eddy, the one he fights every night, Henry is a real pain in the ass, how ironic that he also walks as if he had one. And with his Brando-like eyes, Henry seems to look at both nowhere and everywhere, ignoring but understanding the real world with "real" as the derogatory synonym of obviousness, dullness, hypocrisy ... and when he meets Faye Dunaway (no wire hangers this time, but some priceless hangovers I guarantee) it's the perfect cocktail of cynical poetry and endearing trashiness served to you, on the rocks. Still this is the only alcoholic experience that doesn't leave you with a bitter taste in your mouth, for the film is so wasted you wish you could have wasted more time watching it.The movie is written by Charles Bukowski, one of the most original authors of the last century, a man who gave to the trashiest and lowest life of American streets the letters of an inner nobility that no one could see, except the unfortunate (or were they?) misfits who belonged to that gripping underworld. I wish I could have said that from my readings of some Bukowski's poems or novels, but it's been my whole life since I just knew about this man, and if one thing, "Barfly" is my first immersion in the world of this poet who stinks the sweet perfume of truth and not the one that awakens some repressed suicidal tendencies through a solemn voice over. In "Barfly", truth is delivered through Henry's nasal voice with a musicality singing that life is too serious to be taken seriously … and the genius of the script is how unpretentiously but seriously hilarious it is.You literally savor the script like a sweet, red and juicy appetizer, starting with the most significant quote, the film's tag-line: "Some people never go crazy … what truly horrible lives they must live!" Henry is not right because it's naturally better to be crazy, his sentence exceeds his own personal comprehension of craziness, the point is not to be crazy like Henry, but the way we'd love to be every once in a while. The taste of life differs from one person to another. Henry's nonsense speaks true statements about human nature with the same lucidity that governs our hearts when we've just taken one drop too much. Realization is the first step in the road for wisdom while most of us resist to the blinding flash of realization, Henry can't think of what he wants to be, because he's already too tired of thinking of what he doesn't want to be. Henry subtly mirrors our condition as people who not only know but actually ARE what they don't want to be.Henry can do nothing but drink, sleep, fight and write... still, he's not a loser, hell, how can you be a loser if you've got nothing to lose? The rest of his life consists on a bunch of "can't" but aware, he is, and care, he doesn't; while our masochistic registration to a mediocre formula of life deprived us from the same kind of free-spirited awareness. We try to forget our condition by reassuring ourselves with an ersatz of normality, just to be accepted by the boring majority. "Anyone can get a job. It takes a man to make it without working." Henry's eternal drunkenness injected in his brains an extraordinary view on life so insightful and pertinent, he's the kind of modern prophet you'd constantly wonder what he'd think about anything. And one thing for sure, you'd trade the three quarters of your Facebook friends for one night where you could cheer with Henry, while he raises his glass of scotch and shouts "To my friends!" And that's the true spirit of "Barfly", it doesn't trash your life and talks to you in a patronizing way, it doesn't tease your brains, again: it doesn't take itself seriously. That's what cruelly lacks in today's films, I'd rather watch a movie where a bunch of true losers are having a good time than a bunch of dangerous losers creating a sort of fascist 'fighting' group to show the world they exist. What's so important in today's world anyway to seek the pride of being part of something, of belonging, networking, socializing? Why the need to collect friends and masturbating over an artificial popularity when all you can have are ephemeral but sincere moments of fun with authentic human beings."Barfly" doesn't take itself seriously but doesn't lie either, the ways of truth are impenetrable and often choose the least likely avenues. And "Barfly" works like a reverse fantasy attracting us to the bottom, finding the inner beauty of life in the freedom of action, of spirit and more than anything, belonging to nothing but a true community of ephemeral friends for ephemeral pleasures. No class, no social category, no people, no bourgeois, being an outcast, and even a disgrace, is a luxury providing the most honest vision on the world, not diluted by personal or political bias. You can't be an artist if you're not an outcast and on that level, Chinasky is more than an artist, he's a genuine genius … So, if only for Rourke's spectacular performance, for the witty script, for the so enjoyably cheerful mood and its gallery of colorful and likable characters, not to mention the beautiful shots on Dunaway's sexy legs … this movie deserves to be consumed without moderation. Cheers!
Michael Neumann
Love blossoms in the gutter when a shabby skid row derelict meets an alcoholic floozy in the bars of outer LA, but don't be dismayed by all the rampant sleaze: despite the vivid atmosphere of cheap booze and wasted lives this unique and unusual film represents a minor triumph of comic nonconformity. The script was written by low-life poet Charles Bukowski and is filled with all his favorite things: winos, hookers, losers, and a "wet rat in the rain", played to perfection by Mickey Roarke, who with his flabby posture and smooth beatnik whisper gives the character more humor and humanity than Bukowski may have intended. Give Roarke credit for choosing to appear in such an unflattering role, but this is no ordinary bum. He's a philosopher drunkard who listens to Mozart and Mahler when he isn't picking a fight or puking in an alley after one drink too many, a man whose total freedom from responsibility gives him the power to be completely spontaneous. Faye Dunaway isn't allowed the same depth of character, but together they help make this one of the few films for which the word skuzzy can aptly be used as a compliment.
