The Pleasure of Being Robbed

The worst film I've seen in years. From the first minute to the last, nothing happens! Our (hugely unlikable) hero, Eleonore, who we follow through the film steals from people for unknown reasons. She is the same person from beginning to end thereby leaving the audience with absolutely no satisfaction. There is no character development, no arc, nothing. This film is as bland as puddy.

It's quite obvious the filmmakers were going for a John Cassavetes story-telling, rawness" but didn't even come close to reaching that bar. Instead they succeeded in showing off their immature, New York, self-indulgent "I'm too deep as an artist" arrogant ability producing this 70 minute film that felt like 3 hours. Everything comes down to idea, idea, idea. Concept, concept, concept. Character, character, character.

My favorite of the worst scenes in the film was the "driver's education film" stuck in the middle of this non-existent plot. I understand people in large cities don't drive & maybe have never driven, but come on: Eleonore, are you 3 years old? Are you mentally-impaired? I mean, you've seen cars, right? You live in NY city, they're all around you. You do get the basic idea of what a car does? How it works?? Ever taken a cab anywhere??? Watching the driver's-ed course which seemed like 45 minutes was pure torture! Seriously, is this really story-telling? C'mon, do you look at your own film & say, "WOW, it's so wonderful & deep."

Having screened at the L.A. Film Festival, when asked about certain character/story questions from the audience, the filmmakers had no clue how to answer these basic questions like, "why does Eleonore steal?", or "what's the meaning behind the title?". They just confirmed to the majority of the audience that they are just a bunch of white-kids with a lot of money, making films in which they have no business doing. I wouldn't have such a problem but knowing they think the world of themselves just because they went to NYU & live in some trendy area, living off mommy & daddy's allowance but play it down like "I'm a struggling artist just like you" is completely insulting.

I felt robbed after having seen this film. Can you give me back my time? How 'bout my money. There is NO pleasure in being robbed.

I just saw this at a university screening. After reading the reviews here, I wanted to add my response, too.

I thought this film was really moving. I think it goes a little way toward helping a viewer recognize the wild grip he or she places on things or expectations, and what's more amazing is that the logic of the film allows it to do this almost solely through humor and with a light touch. Many moments in the film are not that far from Gogol's Dead Souls or Tati's Hulot in their liveliness and scope.

At the very least, I'd recommend it to a friend--a thoughtful and surprising film.

THE PLEASURE OF BEING ROBBED (dir. Joshua Safdie) A brash example of LoFi Mumblecore that presents an unapologetic look at a whimsical sociopath who believes that anything that strikes her fancy is hers for the taking. Elenore swipes everything from kittens to Volvos, and the film's uncomfortable message seems to be that her victims are only being blessed by her wonderfulness. Needless to say, it's nearly impossible for a rational viewer to rally round a character with such an extreme egocentric focus, yet the film might only be a sly cinematic valentine by director Joshua Safdie to articulate his feelings for the star of the film, Eleonore Hendricks.

Perhaps I've watched too many 2000s Williamsburg hipster flicks lately, but this one was a real tedious experience. There's certainly something intriguing about the feeling of dull desolation that characters like her, Francis Ha, and the girl in Eternal Sunshine invoke. It's a sort of, life's not that bad, but it's not that good either - a feeling that many people can relate to, especially the Passion Pit stans of the aughts. That said, it's difficult to feel sympathy or even irritation with the characters in this movie. They're aloof, they're flighty, they're criminals in the most pedestrian sense. You don't feel a connection with the characters, and maybe that's the point: they're dull mundane version of living on the fringe is a greater story about the boring dystopia that is America and youth culture. Maybe. Though, like with Frances Ha, it reads a bit more like at some point in history this mentality was cool or edgy. Sort of a last celebration of shoplifting graphic tees from Zumiez and sneaking into the mall movie theatre: it seems like a big deal while you're doing it, doesn't really matter to anybody else..

I saw this film at Cannes twice and I can't seem to either get away from it or get it out of my mind. I keep thinking about the surface nature of the main character Eleonore in the beginning and throughout. But what is crazy is she knows it.

It is not that she is annoying. I Think it is sad to see someone hide their true emotions. She smiles and you wonder why is she smiling, It is uncomfortable to be in the room. These are negative qualities and that is why they are on film (and yes beautiful 16 mm, finally!). They are just an exaggerated type of personality that forces us to see what we all sometimes fall victim too, too big a self-conscience.

She is a great thief, but she is not really stealing. She just wants to learn more about people because she is afraid, or unwilling, to say hello in a genuine way.

At times I didn't like her but so what? Film is not about feeling comfortable, it is about thinking about how you can change parts of yourself. When I didn't like her or what she is doing, I asked myself why? And that is what I liked. I liked also seeing the other people in New york who don't have her problem. Heck, there is a guy walking around saying how beautiful everything is. And wait, here we see her wonder what that life might be like. Also, when she listens to the trumpet playing, I Thought how sad, she realizes her faults. Sometimes you can't change them (Having been in therapy I should know, haha).

Thanks for showing me the pains of holding back, and the beauty of letting it out.