Many movies are bad but few have been directed so utterly without life spirit as Maman que Man by the once promising great wonderchild Lionel Soukaz. The music, the images, the storyline, the acting... It all plots together to make its viewer fall asleep. Matters as desire, passion, forbidden love and disease pass each other on such an incredibly dull pace that you really don't know whether you should be watching the new adventures of Batman instead or simply turn around in bed (or your seat -poor you, a bed would really benefit you here-) and -continue to- fall asleep. What did Soukaz try to do with this?? Imitate Kenneth Anger perhaps?? Unfortunately it is not classic Hollywood enough to fascinate and yet not experimental and avant-garde enough to keep the attention glued on to the screen. How regrettable. Next!!
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