Absolutely Soul Crushing to Find Out that they had Pretentious Hipsters back-in-day, as well.
Nothing Short of Melodramatic.
There are two main takeaways:
1. Max may have been a great Friend, but he was also a Tool.
2. The only sincere thing Wolfe ever wrote, that they read aloud, was his Death Letter.
A lot of divergent interests in this movie.
If this were about Friendship, it would have been far better, but but between all the characters, there isn't much of a Narrative, here.
I found some relief when Earnest Hemingway slammed one of Wolfe's books, because they spent so much time on it, and when they read snippets of any of his stuff, it was lame.
This entire movie is fixated on a guy who is basically reaching for a depth of meaning in his life, but in reality, he was simple and wretched.
Granted, I have only seen this movie, and not actually read his works, but this review is about the movie, not his written works.
When I was in high-school, however, I did read a couple things by Scott Fitzgerald and Earnest Hemingway, and found them EXTREMELY overrated and pretentious.
If you like this kind of culture, there is only one film I have seen that comes close to making it interesting, and that's "Midnight in Paris" with Owen Wilson. (haha)
If there is something better, I don't know of it, yet, but that's the most genuine thing I am aware of.
Great Writing is Sincere, and Rooted in Truth, otherwise it's just Vanity.
This movie communicated nothing but Boredom, to me.
He wasn't a Genius, he was a Loser, at least according to this Film.