Expectation is a wrought thing for a passionate film fan. The pressure put on films to charm and delight you can be too much, failing to rise to whatever preconceived notion of excellence you had. It was a mixture of my love for Zach Braff, from years of watching Scrubs, and word of mouth that this was a phenomenal film that weighted some very misguided expectations (that, I’ll admit, were very wrong of me to have). When I finally got to see Garden State, I was heavily disappointed. Even when I got over the hopes, watching it again later on in life, not much had changed to alter that dismay.
This little anecdote is probably best needed for you to understand while I’m hitting stop on an acclaimed cult indie hit.