We are witnessing the death knells of the Weinstein Company, and in its darkest hour emerges whatever the hell Tulip Fever is. Mired in production hell for over a decade and delayed release for three years after filming, the film amounts to a laughable period piece with an epic lack of focus. It does for historical fiction what The Space Between Us did for YA sci-fi. For all its presumptive wit, the laughter comes more from the fact that so much talent went into making such an obliviously crappy film. Judi Dench, Christoph Waltz, and Alicia Vikander all put in a valiant effort towards retaining their dignity, but even they couldn't act themselves out of this cinematic quicksand. They aren't really given characters to work with, and I think you can even see the dissatisfaction they have for their parts in certain scenes. For some reason Dane Dehaan and Cara Delevigne are given some of the top billing despite the fact they get a relatively small amount screen time. Perhaps Weinstein and co. were hedging their bets that Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets would propel that not-so-dynamic duo on to the A list, and when that didn't work out they cut a bunch of their scenes. Regardless of the people involved, the story seems like it's trying to do too much while doing nothing at all. Most synopses you will find refer to a secret love affair between Dehaan and Vikander while they try to sell tulips or something. That is a gross misrepresentation of the "plot", if you can call it that. Even after seeing some of the most dense and surreal Bergman, Malle, and Wenders films, I had at least a tenuous grasp on what those films were doing. Upon viewing this confusingly edited and poorly told story, I am truly baffled over what the filmmakers were trying to accomplish here. Perhaps I'm giving it too much credit, but I shudder to think that someone went through all of this trouble to make a movie that simplistically whimpers "babies are good, and flowers are pretty".