"Indie" cinema # 2: the indistinction. Once again the indie cinema showing banal characters in banal existential crisis (the dependence of independent cinema of characters is so striking that only with difficulty we can consider it "independent", unless by economic and production criteria) and in irrelevant situations and too seen ambiences, staging it with the most tasteless and anonymous of skills. Worthless.
If Joe Swanberg directed a movie in Argentine vacation spots with Argentina man-child couples, this movie would be born. But this "Marriage Material" is more matter-of-fact, more unpleasant atmosphere with prolongedly tantalizing sense of end, which Sotomayor often depicts in her films. Because we are pesteringly forced to see their relationship which is actually already dead, feel boring. But I also feel authentic.