And for that matter, it's worth noting that the things I'd want to show other people the *most* in the movie are the *violent* scenes--where Garfield beats the crap out of the fruity rock star who is taking a dump, or when he murders that old guy who wrote every pop hit song ever by smashing his face in with a guitar. Hell, those are certainly *my* favorite scenes in the movie.
But the only meaningfulness in the movie is that it's very effectively about total meaninglessness, because it does successfully depress the hell out of me. And a movie about a young man (actually a 35 year old actor who still looks about 21, so he's perfectly cast) who seems to have no job, no family, no concept of real love, no real friends, no real purpose in life because he's completely mentally drowning in his jackoff fantasies and L. A. nostalgia and conspiracy theories and pop culture obsessions is going to hit ME a hell of a lot harder than some traditionally empty Werner Herzog type movie about some poor dumb bastard who wanders off into the woods and dies or something like that.
The real low point in the movie, then, is the scene where the Garfield character seems to be having some fun and being alive, which is...him in some club, dancing around with some girl to the tune of....R. E. M.'s "What's the Frequency, Kenneth?" Was that song being played in hip Los Angeles clubs in 2019? Really? No, it's just the director digging up a song from *his* youth. And since the director is obviously doing that, it's like he's condemning HIMSELF as an eternal man child. Which is just painful.