A relentlessly miserable, yet strangely watchable rock opera Seems to be saying SOMETHING, be it about the destructive nature of fame or the way childhood trauma transforms into bigotry, but it's all too confusing and self-indulgent to really comprehend. There are great sequences (the animation, 'Another Brick In The Wall, Pt. 2'), but the overwhelming nihlism makes this a film I won't be watching again anytime soon.
Solipsism and sexual immaturity were flaws on the album, and here, as the payoff for sitting through a sensory barrage, they make it all feel like a cheat. The film looks like what it was: a creative enterprise with its unhappy creators pulling in different directions, and proof that sometimes listening to an album in the dark with good headphones is so much more rewarding than tying it to 90 minutes of imagery.
Seeing a 70mm print of this film totally blew me away. The images, the music, the story, the animation, all fucking stellar. Maybe its the fact that it was my first experience with both this movie and Pink Floyd that elicited my response but still the experience was one I wouldn't trade for anything. Having those images along with that music blasted at you with such intensity is mind blowing.
Its intense and way too monotone >> I felt tortured. I never seriously listened to Pink Floyd. Not sure what to think >>> i know this film was a big thing back then > specially for people like my parents who watched it illegally being in USSR >> Now for me it just seems forced and over dramaticized. The animation is crazy nice >> it really added to my experience.