Enemy

Critics like to give away endings without meaning to.  Sorry, without having to take responsibly for doing so.  I take me responsibilities with relish, but I feel kind of bad of doing so for Enemy.  I'm not going to tell you, I'm going to do something much worse - I'm going to tell you it's awesome.  See, that's what a critic would do, thus having you know that it's there, thus spoiling the effect of the movie.  But it's so good it won't spoil it, furthermore because there's no way you'll be able to guess it.  The movie is pretty swell by the way, one of the best film on male sexuality since, um, well, Treasure Island, where wwo identical Jake Gyllenhaal's eye, then invade each other's lives.  It basically goes Gilda, Dead Ringers, Treasure Island and this.  It was 2014, and Mr. Gyllenhaal was fucking robbed.  It's short, makes Montréal look ominous, and you need to support surrealism anyway.  Buy it, rent it, put it in your queue.  Let M. Villeneuve know that Prisoners was the garbage one.