Days of Being Wild: A Brief Review
Netflix has been aggressively suggesting that I watch Days of Being Wild (1991), Wong Kar Wai’s first movie, for roughly 2 years. I’ve succumbed to them a number of times, only to fall asleep within 5 minutes of the opening.
Last week, however, I watched it in full. Having a big TV is conducive to staying awake, because rather than watching movies on my tiny MAC in bed, I watch them on the couch with a plethora of sugary snacks. I eat a popsicle, my blood sugar levels spike. I feel high with joy. They valley, I start to nod off. So I eat another popsicle. Ad infinitum.
I’ve been kind of loathe to invest time in Days of Being Wild, which means that it is a third tier choice kind of program. The first tier is shows that I’m obsessed with—currently Mad Men, Game of Thrones, and Veep. The second tier is 30-minute comedies like 30 Rock and Modern Family, which are easy to stream and process if you’ve taken an Ambien. I can watch like 4 episodes of 30 Rock on Ambien, and then be like, holy shit, I’m still awake, did I hallucinate that? And the third tier is Netflix suggestions, which are to Ambien what carbolic acid is to a face. They maximize the substance’s destructive results.
