Am I the only one who didn’t realize the film Hillbilly Elegy was based on this particular guy’s memoir? No wonder it left me with a bad taste in my brain.
I remember deciding to watch it back when it was promoted on Netflix (in 2020-21?), going in completely blind to its background and bent, but wooed by the branding of it being “nominated for awards” and the imagery of a frazzled-looking Glenn Close.
I’ll try to reflect on what I thought of it then without reference to what I know now: The whole movie was uncomfortable, felt weirdly holier-than-thou, and made me question what was supposed to be so good about how this guy was “overcoming” traumatic circumstances. I don’t think I finished it in one go, only doing so because Glenn Close and Amy Adams brought talent to these painfully stereotypified roles. (I had just finished Sharp Objects, so you can imagine how disappointed I was that Amy had to work with so little substance, no pun intended, in this role’s storyline.)
I remember thinking I really disliked the actor who played JD Vance for having such flat personality and boring acting skills. As it turns out, the actor did a helluva job! Bravo!
This was one of the first things I watched with my now wife. Right after the lockdowns started. I too went in to it completely blind.
I rolled my eyes all the way through the movie. It was such obvious award bait, I had predicted how the entire plot would play out, beat for beat after about 10 minutes. It was the last time Netflix was allowed to suggest me a movie.
If they’d have included the part where he questions his sexuality and fucks a sofa it might have been better.
If you haven’t you should listen to the episode of “If books could kill” about Hillbilly Elegy, it’s very enlightening about the kind of person Vance is.
Am I the only one who didn’t realize the film Hillbilly Elegy was based on this particular guy’s memoir? No wonder it left me with a bad taste in my brain.
I remember deciding to watch it back when it was promoted on Netflix (in 2020-21?), going in completely blind to its background and bent, but wooed by the branding of it being “nominated for awards” and the imagery of a frazzled-looking Glenn Close.
I’ll try to reflect on what I thought of it then without reference to what I know now: The whole movie was uncomfortable, felt weirdly holier-than-thou, and made me question what was supposed to be so good about how this guy was “overcoming” traumatic circumstances. I don’t think I finished it in one go, only doing so because Glenn Close and Amy Adams brought talent to these painfully stereotypified roles. (I had just finished Sharp Objects, so you can imagine how disappointed I was that Amy had to work with so little substance, no pun intended, in this role’s storyline.)
I remember thinking I really disliked the actor who played JD Vance for having such flat personality and boring acting skills. As it turns out, the actor did a helluva job! Bravo!
This was one of the first things I watched with my now wife. Right after the lockdowns started. I too went in to it completely blind.
I rolled my eyes all the way through the movie. It was such obvious award bait, I had predicted how the entire plot would play out, beat for beat after about 10 minutes. It was the last time Netflix was allowed to suggest me a movie.
If they’d have included the part where he questions his sexuality and fucks a sofa it might have been better.
If you haven’t you should listen to the episode of “If books could kill” about Hillbilly Elegy, it’s very enlightening about the kind of person Vance is.
I just happened to be looking for a podcast when I saw this comment. So, thanks!