Only someone who’s unfamiliar with psychedelic treats and chemically induced psychosis could think I’m Still Here is anything but real.
And with that out of the way: in this slow and boring Casey Affleck documentary, the director follows his big-baby-brother-in-law Joaquin Phoenix for more than a year, as the bearded Hollywood anti-hero stumbles through a non-stop tit, coke, and weed parade. In the midst of a crisis, Phoenix makes a quarter-cocked attempt at rapping, though his effort is so pathetically delusional that it can’t even be considered an affront to hip-hop.
Although skillfully overhyped, this asinine exercise is little more than a way for Affleck and Phoenix to write off blow and hookers. If you’ve seen the part where Phoenix trips balls on The Late Show with David Letterman, you’ve seen it all. Of course it’s fun to watch celebrities steer toward brick walls, but that doesn’t change the fact that I'm Still Here is just The Surreal Life with A-listers.
