Midway through "Running with the Bulls," I thought, "this is like watching a student film." Then I realized that even compared to student films, this is still excruciatingly bad. The jokes--all three of them--are obvious and done to death. Goldberg's preoccupation with documenting every iota of his existence is meant to be amusing, but it's merely annoying. Goldberg wrote, directed, starred and composed the music for this film so his presence is inescapable and ultimately claustrophobic. Comparisons to Woody Allen are inevitable, but Allen surrounds himself with talented actors and postcard-perfect shots of New York. Perhaps Goldberg will figure out in time that he needs an ensemble to balance out his brooding.
A sad footnote: John Glick, Goldberg's friend in this film (and in real life, for all I know) was tragically killed in July 2005 by a distraught young woman who attempted suicide by ramming her car into his. She survived; Glick and his two companions didn't.
A sad footnote: John Glick, Goldberg's friend in this film (and in real life, for all I know) was tragically killed in July 2005 by a distraught young woman who attempted suicide by ramming her car into his. She survived; Glick and his two companions didn't.