The wall that Morris runs into is the same one which gives the film its beauty--paradox. Our species seems, in many respects, little more than savage beasts held at bay by psychological conditioning, rodents nesting cozily in our own filth, fast, out-of-control robots who treat life cheaply.
Given this, how can there be room for a topiary gardener, or for a man who studies another species he readily--almost proudly--admits is "completely irrelevant" to us? And how can a movie about the animal, mechanical nature of humanity be so impassioned, so charged with the spiritual?
Fast, Cheap & Out of Control
Directed by Errol Morris.
Rated
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