Director: jim cummings
as a man inside the midst of a fearful breakdown—subsequently broken by way of the recent dying of his mom—officer jim arnaud can’t pretty hold his shit together any longer. As played via author-director jim cummings, he’s not most effective a person untethered, he’s a man flummoxed via the sheer inexplicability of human life, a long way from equipped, as we all aren’t, to stand some thing conflagration of cosmic coincidences which have conspired to destroy him—to make his ex-spouse such an asshole, his daughter so aloof, his mom so useless. Cummings is an exceptionally likable presence, and jim arnaud is, for loss of a higher descriptor, an amazing individual, but thunder avenue is set how being a terrific man or woman hardly topics when the hidden rhythms and equations of the quotidian do not anything to make existence honest for folks that reputedly play through its guidelines.
Throughout, cummings directs himself with a pastiche of tones, from time to time uncomfortably intimate, even woozy, on occasion frozen at a distance, bearing witness, like a pitying wes anderson, to the anxious symmetry of this negative guy’s lifestyles. All of it's miles funny, it all acutely painful. In the meantime, arnaud incorporates an intensely beleaguered appropriate nature about his misfortune, inclined to assignment the entirety unfair in his lifestyles if best he knew how, stymied to the point of apoplexy. No other actor this year may want to fine summarize this year with an unintelligible stammer, his phrases now not quite capable of catch up together with his brain, but simplest due to the fact he has no phrases, due to the fact his mind can’t pretty catch up with the purposelessness of all of the mundane shit he’s got to go through.