Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu is a filmmaker to be reckoned with. There's no denying it.
You can feel him reaching for greatness in every inch of Biutiful. And while in certain stretches there's no question he's hitting career high-points, there's the unavoidable fact the same problems that interfered with 21 Grams and Babel are present again, raging in full force. The hope held by many that he would break free of them after parting ways with screenwriting partner Guillermo Arriaga are dashed here. The flaws are worse than ever, only arranged this time in chronological order instead of scrambled. What is it about Inarritu's films that leave me with an empty heart and a weight on my shoulders?