Breakfast of Champions (film)

Breakfast of Champions is a 1999 American comedy film adapted and directed by Alan Rudolph from the novel of the same name by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. It was entered into the 49th Berlin International Film Festival.

At the close of the Harper Audiobook edition of Breakfast of Champions, there is brief conversation between Vonnegut and longtime friend and attorney, Donald C. Farber in which the two, among jokes, disparage this loose film adaptation of the book as painful to watch.Breakfast of Champions received negative reviews, scoring aon Rotten Tomatoes. In his review for The New York Times, Stephen Holden wrote, In many ways, Breakfast of Champions is an incoherent mess. But it never compromises its zany vision of the country as a demented junkyard wonderland in which we are all strangers groping for a hand to guide us through the looking glass into an unsullied tropical paradise of eternal bliss. Entertainment Weekly gave the film an F rating and Owen Gleiberman wrote, Rudolph, in an act of insane folly, seems to think that what matters is the story. The result could almost be his version of a Robert Altman disaster a movie so unhinged it practically dares you not to hate it. In his review for the San Francisco Chronicle, Peter Stack wrote, Rudolph botches the material big time. Relying on lame visual gimmicks that fall flat, and insisting on pushing almost every scene as frantic comedy weighted by social commentary, he forces his actors to become hams rather than believable characters. Sight and Sound magazines Edward Lawrenson wrote, Willis performance, all madness, no method, soon feels embarrassingly indulgent. In his review for the Los Angeles Times, Kevin Thomas wrote, As it is, Breakfast of Champions is too inyourface, too heavily satirical in its look, and its ideas not as fresh as they should be. For the film to have grabbed us from the start, Rudolph needed to make a sharper differentiation between the everyday world his people live in and the vivid world of their tormented imaginations. In her review for the Village Voice, Amy Taubin wrote, Another middleaged malecrisis opus, it begins on a note of total migraineinducing hysteria, which co

Source: Wikipedia