expected a bonkers romp through the arts and literature. Instead, I was fed a cold porridge of pretention that spends 150 interminable minutes hopping through time while switching between black and white and color cinematography.

Isaac is magnetic in the central role but is outdone by the transformative Butler.

By the time the movie resorts to a dream sequence in which Gadot appears naked on a clamshell hovering over the ocean à la Botticelli’s Venus, the entire film has become so silly that the only thing to do between yawns is laugh.

It is a leaden, tedious, and enormously pretentious drama in which Schnabel prioritizes style over substance—like a paperback book concealing blank pages. [Full review in Spanish]