THE REBEL (1961) *1/2 Yes it has to do with art and Paris, no it has nothing to do with the Camus. Really. Though the existentialist jokes are the best bits. Not that there's all that much to them, but it's all pleasant enough, really. Oliver Reed's in it for a very little bit. It all tries not to say much and ends up saying nothing, which is a triumph or sorts, along the lines of the theories depicted. Very light stuff, very light, I won't irritate greater talents by saying that Charlie Chaplin did it all better, earlier, and with actual thoughts and guts. I wouldn't think of invoking Marx, having already mentioned Camus. No, no, it's more shopkeeper and parking attendant stuff, really. Lower level bartender babble, unfit for the magic hours towards closing time. In fact, worthy only of some place that was already closed. But it's not at all like cleaning up. Not that long, but feels longer than it is.
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