In many ways it’s an apotheosis of what the best of Kanye is about: a searching scrutiny of his best friend and worst enemy, his ego. Its lustful striving to realize its wildest fantasies renders him a prisoner within his own desire, unable to privilege anything or anyone else, redeemed only by its honesty in facing this state. It’s Synecdoche, New York, only told with a refreshing lack of self-pity and a ton more cinematic in setting psychic demons to space and time.
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