Poor Things

#144 at the time of writing.

I've enjoyed several of Greek director Yorgos Lanthimos's films for their quirky style and daring ambiguity, but not this one. It was a thesis on the ubiquity of human cruelty that I found facile, overlong and distasteful. (The production design and costumes and music, though, are first rate - I predict that's where this movie will get Oscars.)

Drawing from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (with shades of Candide), Tony McNamara's script adapts a 1992 Scottish novel by Alasdair Gray, portraying a childlike woman - or in this case a womanlike child - going out into the world in true ingenue-trope style. But despite this film's highbrow credentials, it is Bad Santa-level crass. Which probably labels me a prude, but there it is: I found the sense of humour unappealing.