We've all been there: You're at a party. You see one of the most beautiful people in the world. You muster up courage. You strike up a conversation. And then you discover that this wildly sexy, incredibly gorgeous human is the most vapid, boring person you've ever talked to.
Life of Pi is just like that pretty, vacant lust object: The film opens and closes with some of the most inane chatter about spirituality you'll ever have the misfortune of hearing in a movie. There's a "twist" that attempts to imbue the film with more nuance and meaning than it can legally bear. It's wildly self-satisfied. None of that should be a surprise to fans of the book this film was closely adapted from: Yann Martel's novel is famous for packing in its own misguided attempt at literary criticism in its closing pages.
But oh my God is it beautiful. Ang Lee makes the central chunk of the filmâabout a boy stuck on a lifeboat with a tigerâinto one of the prettiest things you've ever seen on a movie screen. (Splurge on the 3-D. You won't regret it.) The incredible nature imagery is just about worth all the suffering you have to sit through before and after, and as soon as pot is legalized on December 6, you should run to the movies and soak this motherfucker in, unencumbered by rational thought. 
