This was just OK. He tried to do something oddball and quirky but it wasn't odd enough to be interesting or memorable. It was a coming-of-age/romcom more than anything. One problem was that the humor was coarse and vulgar without being funny. I counted one little chuckle which I have to admit was nicely handled.
The central conceit...what do you have to do to be a great artist?...wasn't anything we in the audience care about. You either are an artist and are continually driven to create or you're not. There's nothing wrong with being a dabbler but greatness usually eludes those folks.
Some good players were ill used here. Jim Broadbent in particular beshat himself in a losing cause. To my eye, Mr. Zwigoff has had two failures attempting fiction after his excellent Crumb documentary. It's still three strikes and you're out.
4
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