It's not that it's a bad film. No! Contrary to what I always imagined, I actually quite enjoyed the 50 minutes I watched last Thursday night. Snyder's enormous rendering of each and every gesture and sigh gives the film a mythological texture. It wheezes and heaves and shouts, each sentence as important as the other. Self-indulgent sincerity in teal and orange. It is also, I think, a very attractive looking film. Someone on Letterboxd likened it to a DragonBall Z film (to which Devan Scott replied when I brought this up: 'but is that a good thing? Is that something we want or need?' I don't know, but I do like the implications). I was lying on the couch, laptop on my lap, headphones on and, well... I kinda dug it.
As I told some friends today: I think I got the gist of it. I understand what Snyder is doing, I respect it, and admire it to a certain degree (I think I've always had some appreciation for Snyder's gorgeous idiocy). And now that I'm not watching the film, I'm noticing an ambivalence toward finishing it. Not from a lack of interest or a seething disinterest, but from a lack of further interest. For all I know, I've seen the film in its entirety. Today, right before doing the dishes, I remember I had to log it on Letterboxd before remembering I had yet to watch the remaining 100 minutes. But in actuality, I think I've seen everything the film had to offer me and I enjoyed it for the time being, but why continue when I've not felt the need for the past 2 days?
I might still get back to it. Might even follow it up with its sequel. And I might end up watching the big one after that. But for now, I'm content with the current situation. And I don't know what that means.