Synecdoche, New York -- Charlie Kaufman's new film, this time both written and directed. Wow, what can I say? Most reviews had a hard time explaining what exactly happens in this movie, and with good reason: it's like watching someone's vivid dream of existential dread put on film. The movie is quite awesome, but its also sad, creepy and will not make you smile or laugh in the way Being John Malcovich, Adaptation, Eternal Sunshine, etc. did. There is some humor in it, but its main focus is on putting into tangible terms man's frustration with a life that's likely to disappoint and not amount to anything of significance or interest. It's a movie about regret, despair and hopelessness. The plot, and this shouldn't ruin anything, is thus: a regional theater director faces emotional frustration at home, received a major national grant in recognition of his work, then attempts to put on the most "brutally honest" play about the human condition ever staged --in the process he builds a replica of New York in a warehouse and falls down under the weight of the truth (or, possibly, his success) --the story is much, much more layered and complex, but it all falls within that scope. It takes place over a long period of time. The film gets gradually more surreal as it goes, but stops short of going into total abstraction. It works for the following reasons: Phillip Seymour Hoffman and the supporting cast are able to carry some very complicated and difficult roles, Kaufman's script has many strong moments and keeps it together, but --more importantly-- Kaufman's direction is able to keep the story from getting convoluted (a very difficult task here); if any of these items had been substandard this movie would've collapsed under its own weight. I hope Kaufman gets light-hearted again because I don't know if I could take these movies. 4.5/5