Wild Nina

I had so many wildly contradictory feelings watching the Nina Simone biopic, NINA. Zoe Saldana doesn't look, sound, sing, or feel like Nina Simone. The scenes jump around and then random guests pop up like Richard Pryor to literally say lines like 'remember when' that segways into a flashback that shows 'something back when.' The doo doo putty makeup they put on Zoe's face seems to be right on the verge of curdling into some sort of mousse/gelatin dessert they served at The Piccadilly Buffet when I was a kid. And then some times a moment catches me by surprise due to the power of the music, or a glimpse of something true manages to slither out of the rancid bowels of this enterprise...and break free to the surface. I'm grateful...taken aback. Relieved. Horrified. Concerned that maybe my standards have been drowned in the whale vomit of this bloated leviathan... but also curious as to what's going to happen next. It almost feels like I'm tripping balls, but on something unusual like hot mayonnaise that's been left in the trunk or tofu found at the back of the fridge. But I will always choose an interesting mess or a boring ride.