Ms. Brody,
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Your glowing review of this “film” propelled me to get myself over to the Music Box to see Tarnation [Section 2, October 22]. As a mental health counselor working in the foster-care system, the subject matter is of great interest to me. In fact, based on your review, I mistakenly recommended this film to several of my colleagues, a mistake I have learned from. I was sorely disappointed in this movie. I found it a trite, self-serving plunge into narcissistic mediocrity. The feel of Tarnation was more like an erratic MTV music video than a documentary. Caouette made a pathetic attempt at identifying himself with the talent of John Cassavetes and Roman Polanski by stealing actual scenes from Rosemary’s Baby. That wasn’t an “echo,” Ms. Brody; that was using a master filmmaker’s work to give the impression of talent.
Against my every desire to run fleeing from the theater, I stayed in the hopes of Caouette redeeming himself. Instead I wasted 105 minutes and $9.
