Been seeing a lot of talk about “controlled chaos” with this….idk I didn’t see much control :(

How come Bob Dylan was just dressing like Serpico from ‘75 to ‘78??

Feeling all the feels for obvious reasons (6 months of my life working on this, seeing the sets and characters come to life, all the memories etc)

But the ambiguity that Scorsese sews into Ernest’s being and intentions is why I love movies. Lily Gladstone, pure revelation. De Niro in glasses. What else can ya say? That’s cinema.

Feel like I kind of selfishly watched this on my first go, but on this second viewing I found myself just absolutely crushed under the weight of the pain and tragedy so deftly portrayed here.

 So yeah, it’s a fucking masterpiece. 

Robbie Robertson thanks for one last work of genius before you hit the road