Michael Mann: So there’s this guy, he sucks, he’s consumed by a formless guilt and lowkey wants to be purified in death, he’s a cop with a Napoleon complex played by Al Pacino. He possesses innate Vaudevillian talent but uses it exclusively to reign state terror or evade authentic emotional commitment. He’s an empath. He has BPD. He’s a Manic Pixie Vietnam Veteran who may or may not have committed war crimes and dropped out of law school because why interpret the law when you can be the motherfucking law. He lets his hot wife tie him up in bed and then skips off to chase guys around. He dresses like an undertaker who moonlights as a used car salesman and wears a watch that would not look out of place on a drug dealer or Howard Ratner. He has apparently developed some kind of autochthonous personal slang that everybody around him just rolls with because he has inexplicable charisma despite being observably violent and insane. He’s a superficially doting but absent stepfather careening for divorce number three. His idea of trauma therapy is police brutality street theater while high on speed.
Me: At last, I understand the mythical “blorbo” archetype of which this website speaks.