We were late reaching out to Connected, a movie about its director's relationship with technology, which opened Friday. We didn't miss much.


WW Critic's Score: 30

Tiffany Shlain opens her "autoblogography about love, death and technology," titled Connected, with an anecdote about lunching with a friend after a long time without seeing each other. Despite having a fabulous time, she can't stop thinking about her email. Her urge is so strong that she feigns having to go to the bathroom so she can check it. All I could think about after this opener: I already don't like you, Tiffany. The other 75 minutes of the film don't change that first impression. Apparently Shlain considers her life so fascinating and thought-provoking that she invites the whole world to watch her memoir, which is what Connected really is: a glorified, stylized, overblown home video. She gets away with this by playing the film off as a discussion of how we can use our new-found, widespread connectivity to better the world. Instead, the audience watches a timeline of Shlain's life ("in 1984, my Dad gave me a Macintosh"), as well as a brief history of the world (not sure which is supposed to hold more importance here). We are privy to the ins and outs of Shlain's life, specifically her relationship with her father (the author and brain surgeon/scientist Leonard Shalin) and his diagnosis with brain cancer. Clips of wedding receptions, proposals, funerals, family vacations and births all included. The problem is, I don't care about your life, Tiffany Shlain, and throughout Connected you never give me a reason to. The connectivity discussion isn't concluded in any real way. We're left with vague assertions and unoriginal, unsupported ideas about how "our survival depends on our connection to each other", while Shlain is left with a glossy movie of her life story to show to her kids. No one else will be interested. Fox Tower.