Is it real? Yes. It feels like I'm really watching two exceptionally boring people I hardly know and certainly dislike fall inexplicably in love and subsequently get sick of each other. First, they fall in love, and when you're watching from a third-person perspective, and you can't feel the passion, love is just plain dull.
Then, they get married and move into passive-aggressive territory, which is simply annoying. By the two-hour mark, when they finally get into some meaty conflict, I was so tired of their incessant jabber, I found myself praying for a sensational homicide/suicide scenario that would spare me the inevitable "slice of life" break-up moments, sure to be as lacking in insight as the preceding scenes.
Flannel Pajamas is one of those movies that give art-house flicks a bad name. It has a pretentious, arbitrary title that in no way reflects the film's content, a slow narrative with little conflict and no point, and loads of gratuitous, casual nudity (because it ain't arty enough without pubic hair). It makes me want to rush out and watch the stupidest, most formulaic, high-concept, plot-driven popcorn-fest Hollywood has to offer, just so I can appreciate it on that one level that this waste of my time strives to take for granted.