There is no question that Alejandro G. Iñárritu is a great director. But that doesn't change the fact that I was unable to connect with "Bardo" for the majority of the time. To my shame, I have to confess that at many points I didn't understand exactly what I was watching. Iñárritu stages many moments in a truly amazing way and shows the full extent of his creativity. At the same time, he was probably a bit self-indulgent and pretentious while making this film.

Almost every scene drifts into surrealism, making it extremely difficult to even begin to follow the plot (at least that's how I experienced it). The plot is also unfocused. The extremely long runtime along with the jumbled plot are really not a good combination. I haven't seen a movie as exhausting as "Bardo" in a long time. At least the finale managed to grab my attention, though.

Except for a few impressive moments, the latest work of the master director is truly a disappointment. At this point in his career, Iñárritu has, of course, earned the right to make the films he is most passionate about. But I personally prefer his earlier works far more.

"I am fine. I'm just sad! And that's okay, feeling sad is good for you sometimes."

BARDO is an experimental film, loosely a semi-autobiographical drama from director Alejandro G. Iñárritu, which feels like an existential crisis.

By becoming an American citizen and trying to fit into a country that has yet to value you, so you change your ways and lose your identity.

I understand that Iñárritu's films are not for everyone, but this movie deserves much better.

My expectations were high but as it progressed it got worse, what a horrible movie, pretending to be a surreal work.

[Netflix] The acceptance of the approaches of this film is proportional to the way in which Iñárritu's cinema is accepted as a show that is less superficially banal than it seems. Picking up the psychological/surreal look of "Birdman or (The unexpected virtue of ignorance)" (2014), it achieves less identification with the protagonist, although it is understood that it is a more personal film, but with a very Italian texture (echoes of Fellini and Sorrentino are seen), in which He describes his concerns about creation, the halfway point between fiction and reality, his own unease about being nowhere when the decision to be an immigrant is made, and the tragedy of losing a child. But these ramblings of the Mexican privileged class seem trivial and predictable, hardly interesting despite the condition of his personal confession. The responsibility as director, co-writer, editor and even composer of the soundtrack is so personal that, this time, the formal elaboration, the extraordinary photography of Darius Khondji or the humanist interpretation of the great Daniel Giménez-Cacho have nothing to do to avoid boredom.

I'm a fan of the filmmaker and surreal cinema so I really enjoyed it. I can see why the average Netflix subscriber will hate it, though.

It goes a bit too much towards the end, but still has 2 hours that are pretty fun. Important thing to note is that the movie got 20 minutes cut after its festival run (the cut was announced September 22) so I can't say how much it affected the end product and the reviews that it has gotten (I've watched the 159 minute version that most likely will be the one avaliable on Netflix in December)