Many of these thoughts have been articulated in this forum already, but having just seen it, here are my thoughts:
If anyone was to rant to me how much they hated this frenetic, bombastic beast of a picture, I would completely understand, but I just couldn't. It is a long (and maybe, it could be argued, pointless) exercise in self-indulgence by someone who has clearly allowed his ego to inflate over the last few years, but it was made with absolute commitment by all involved, including Chazelle, and crafted far too skillfully for hatred.
Performances are at heightened, operatic, levels for more than three hours, which can certainly be off-putting. And yet despite being a film of near constant dialogue, and an excessive length, you somehow still don't really have any real notion of who these people are, other than they have a voraciously harmful (and self-harmful) need to be famous or powerful (or both). Most of the time, they are caricatures or cyphers of real-life golden age personalities than they are human beings, and the film relies upon you to either know that insider-baseball stuff and fill in the blanks, or simply doesn't care and demands the viewer just accept the cartoonish behaviours and figures as presented, if they can stick around for the entirety of the picture.
Most characters only get one or two big scenes before disappearing, which doesn't seem like it should be possible in a 190 minute film, but somehow is.
The score berates you, and also feels like leftovers from
La-La Land.
The film is mostly told through montages of physical or chemical addictive behaviours.
Speaking of which, none of the sex is even remotely erotic. It's transactional and actually quite chaste in nature; mostly just naked flesh on anonymous parts of either really cut or really flabby extras, writhing and jiggling in that same awkward and unrealistic way that people in movies only seem to have sex. And with the picture's browns, oranges and golds, it really feels like you're watching a less sexually charged version of Christina Aguilera's "
Dirty"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Rg3sAb8Id8 video or Hiro Murai's video for the Chet Faker song, "
Gold"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hi4pzKvuEQM, which are two videos I unconditionally love, though they have different energies, because they are exactly what it wants to be; fucking sexy.
But Chazelle doesn't want sexy sex, and that's fine. It's his prerogative, and it's not the type of story he's trying to tell.
The sex was a lot like the sex in
Eyes Wide Shut or
Wolf of Wall Street, both of which use a disconnected tone in their "orgy" scenes to illustrate and dissect that horrible need men of power have to voraciously commodify, consume evacuate vice and woman when they're through, without any perceived consequences, except, of course, for the cost of their own humanity, and all of the lives that they obliterate in the process.
This one does it less successfully, mostly because it never feels like we're seeing anything that hasn't already been said more honestly and succinctly by Kubrick or Scorsese or Paul Thomas Anderson in modern western cinema, or Fellini or Pasolini or Yasuzo Masumura (a delightful new discovery for me over the last few years), and some scenes feel like they're lifted, beat for beat, right out of films by those filmmakers.
But...
It is gorgeous to look at and it does have an energy that's undeniable.
You simply can't turn away, which, given its length, is nothing to turn your nose up at, especially if you have an interest in the subject matter (which I think we all do).
There is a shot of Margot Robbie disappearing into the shadows of an unlit LA side-street towards the film's end that simply took my breath away.
Lead, Diego Calva, is very handsome and, I found, very magnetic.
Robbie is fearless, and though she chews scenery that's already been chewed and regurgitated by everyone else around her, you also can't stop watching her when she's onscreen.
Jean Smart's presence does seem trivial and wasted, especially considering how great she's been in this late career resurgence she's had over the last decade.
Brad Pitt is the most nuanced of the film's characters, and his performance feels the most successful because of that grounding. Whether this is by-product of his age compared to everyone else sharing space with him, or the history we, as viewers, bring to the table, having had a cinematic relationship with him over the last three decades, his character is the only one that feels properly lived in.
That’s actually, now that I think about it, a huge criticism of Chazelle's writing, because you shouldn't be wondering who these people really are after spending three hours with them.
I suppose what I'm saying, though, is that I actually do recommend
Babylon, but only if you taper your expectations and steel yourself for a tsunami of empty excess by someone who may just think he's the saviour of cinema (and I am a fan of his other work), but who also clearly loves movies and moviemaking, warts and all (and there are a lot of fucking warts), a great deal. I respected it more than liked it, but do think it is worth a viewer's time.