Hard to say whether Waking Life is philosophising or just monologuing with a highlighter. Richard Linklater hands the mic to an endless stream of thinkers, stoners, scholars, and cranks—some animated as if mid-seizure thanks to the rotoscoping, which here feels more distracting than deep. One of those voices belongs to Alex Jones, which adds a layer of discomfort I could’ve done without.
The film is a cascade of “conversations” on free will, death, dreams, time, the soul, politics, love, and God—each competing to out-meta the last. It shares DNA with Slacker, but without the wit or rough-edged charm. There’s something admirable about the ambition, but the format turns even the most interesting ideas into academic mush. “The story is singular,” one character claims, right before another ten ramble in to contradict him.
It’s a film you watch less with your eyes and more with your eyebrows raised. Some moments catch a spark—but too often, it’s like eavesdropping on a university common room where nobody asks questions, only performs answers.
Brain exhausting fantasy featuring the thoughts of a man dying in a road accident, representing his last eight minutes of brain activity after the body dies. In this rotoscoped world, he dreams of, or recalls, visits to his friends to discuss philosophy, conspiracy and the universe. A hundred minutes of dense, difficult dialogue; but fascinating.
I would not recommend this film at all. To say it is weird is being very kind. My opinion is that the film is nonsensical rambling that everyone can do without. I think it's one of those films that people want to be seen to enjoy because it's so highly rated - but not for the sober.
To be honest I didn't finish the film but I was very relived to turn it off and be released from it. No stars.