The Map of Tiny Perfect Things

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source: The Map of Tiny Perfect Things

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After the first, terrific 10 minutes, the film falters significantly. Kathryn Newton isn't attractive enough to pique our interest or serve as a credible romantic prize, which is where these things always. They're sexless, as well. They could be any gender. The girl's ignorance is on an essential point is unintentional. Why would one assume that what they're dealing with is in any way Euclidean? She claims that time is not the fourth dimension, when according to Einsteinian spacetime, which superceded the Euclidean, time is indeed the fourth dimension, and there's no reason to think this repetition is only occurring on some Euclidean scale. Then she misunderstands the representation of a fourth, spatial dimension, treating it as a very real thing, then as a kind of metaphor, which is not unreasonable, but it ultimately makes no sense. The search for perfect things is okay, but it's gotten a bit dull and we're only 33m in, and he's in the process of trying to "win" the girl, as if she was the what mattered. Ugh. "It's all I got. Take it or leave it." Way to be a piece of crap. And like a weakling he mumbles he'll accept it. How can boys grow up sanely when this garbage is all they see, day in day out? At the midpoint of the run time he's at his nadir, having made an incredible series of moves that only resulted in a flat and even insulting rejection. The script blunders with an unpleasant exchange between the lead and Al Madrigal, who brings nothing to the role of a needlessly irritated algebra teacher. Why not get a very talented comedian to play the role and shoot for something like a scene between Bill Murray and Ned Ryerson (Stephen Tobolowsky). With this one, they're not even trying. So he ends up interpreting all this as 'she made me a better man' and that his own life isn't even his story, and we're supposed to believe this is personal progress. Then we get ridiculous 'wisdom' from her mother who's dying of cancer. "It's never too late, unless you're dying of cancer." Spare me your delusional American fantasy of hope. It's the horror of contemporary feminism, writ small, but then in having the girl realizing she has feelings for him, it's trying to eat its cake and have it too. Then she has her realization about all this with Mark's friend, not Mark, which is a poor script decision, though consistent with the narrative abandoning Mark entirely, which is consistent, anyway, with this feminist subversion perversion of Groundhog Day. His function ends up being to comfort her. She actually says, You're here so I wouldn't have to be alone, and he nods along like a good doggy. "Okay," he says. I turned off this travesty with a few minutes left. No, it's not even worth sticking around for the ending.

source: The Map of Tiny Perfect Things