First things first; it's pronounced Sin-eck-da-kee - and is intended to be a mispronunciation of the city Schenectady (in upstate New York, just west of Albany).

In his usual autobiographical style, Charlie Kaufman (Adaptation, Being John Malkovich, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) brings us into the painfully insecure world of his inner thoughts.  Only this time, he directs.  As is usually the case with Kaufman's work, he tells stories too far out for mainstream audiences to appreciate or spend the energy required to understand.  But as usual, there is a brilliance to the madness of this other-world.

Play-within-a-play is here re-defined in the most complex of terms, as it's actually a play within a play within a lonely man's mind within a film.  In moments absurd, in others a painstakingly realistic drama, and in others still an awkward romance, Synecdoche is always and unflinchingly one man's existential dilemma.  Caden Cotard is one depressed cookie, as is the puppetmaster pulling his strings.

Part of me wonders if Kaufman intends to direct again, or if he insisted upon directing this particular film in honor of its story-within-a-story structure, whereby the director attempts to bring his most personal existential dilemma into a tangible artistic medium.  If he never directed again, I think I'd find the feat that was Synecdoche, New York all the more impressive.

Pretty safe to say Michael Marino's got an Oscar nomination (perhaps even a win) wrapped up for his kick-ass prosthetics, as does Samantha Morton (Best Supporting Actress) for her charmingly-nuanced performance as Hazel. 

Check this film out with a friend who enjoys debate, and be sure to schedule processing time after it's concluded.