Joel and Ethan Coen give us “Burn After Reading,” a salute to stupidity in a post-modern, post-stupid world. The film, almost as disjointed as the premise, joins meandering chaos with bitter cultural observations and a few genuinely sad glances to the side. Not funny so much as apropos, “Burn” is ignorable in guise and exorable in geist. Like a lost CD of Agency memoirs, you can take it or leave it.
The crux of my
sentiment is already covered well in Dustin's earlier review, so this
will be short. Here I can just highlight a few interesting points.
There exists a plethora of various characters. It is hard to declaim
one as a central character, but rather they all seem to be playing
various levels of support. Quite what or who they are supporting is
hard to say. Perhaps the main character is stupidity itself. The
logical foil for stupidity is obviously intelligence, but none of
that is on display here. So each scene is just an additional crescendo
of ineptitude. This is intriguing, but cannot carry the film. The
stand-out bastion of stupidity is Pitt's character, who is really
kind of sympathetic for anyone who knows a similar fellow in real
life. He carries his scenes by a wide margin.