Reviews

Here is a highly unusual and indisputably original film directed by one of the truly finest directors working at the moment, Stephen Frears.

This film has got a lot to offer. It is, on the surface, a thriller--at least it has been marketed as one I'm sure. But don't let the word fool you, or lead you on. It is indeed a thriller, but not because it holds to the conventions of that or any other genre. It is a thriller because it does exactly that: it thrills. It is thrilling in virtually every way a film of this noble caliber can be--namely, it excites the senses with its deft visual perception, its uncanny sound design that constantly hints at promises to startle, and in the outstanding performances by each and every actor involved.

That is to say, there is not a dull moment or a bland job of acting in evidence anywhere here. It's the mesmerizing cinematography and the sparse, slightly unsettling score that pulls you in, then the actors do the rest, many of them whom I had never seen before.

This film reminded me of some of Atom Egoyan's work. The atmosphere is heady, and combined with the idiosyncratic story, we have quite a package. If this film were a meal, say, it would be one that you would want to take your time on in order to savor every bite, wiping your mouth with a soft cloth napkin so as not to risk getting any stains on your best shirt.

But Dirty Pretty Things is not only stylish and atmospheric, it contains a goodly dose of emotion as well. Through the eyes of these people we see a world where the disadvantaged take advantage of each other, often without any qualms whatsoever. This is the underbelly of London where those who are not native English folk are seemingly either desperate refugees constantly hiding out from the authorities or small-time crooks who relish in wielding whatever shred of power they can attain. With Frears directing, the result is an utterly believable and shrewdly paced tale in which people who are good at their core somehow figure a way to right wrong things.

As a footnote, Audrey Tautou fans will not be disappointed. This is only the second movie I've seen her in, the other being her most famous one. Suffice it to say, before Dirty Pretty Things is even half over, I'd be willing to bet that the image of Amelie Poulain will have receded into the vault of more distant memories.

Extremely highly recommended!

This film starts out in a very interesting way: a stone-faced young man who looks like he might be on parole for manslaughter (perhaps he is) grabs a girl he has never met and starts tongue kissing her fervently as her boyfriend wallops him with a cylindrical ashtray. And all this after suggestively consuming a hot dog on a stick and discarding said stick on the concrete with a casualness that would make Dean Martin seem like General Patton in comparison! After this however, the film goes down the tubes, or perhaps a cylindrical ashtray of its own. While I will concede that the acting is rather above average, and at times excellent even, the monotony of the plot, or lack thereof, begins to take its toll on the film-viewing mind.

This is the story of a man who most certainly has an unusual, let us say unconventional, way of expressing his love for a woman. And, brace yourself for the bizarre spiral of violence that begins somewhere around the middle of the film. This makes Mean Streets look like Love Story! The title character (?) seems, for all intents and purposes, to be an immortal. I won't illustrate any further. You'll see what I mean should you choose to view this confusing piece of work.

At the end I found myself asking, "Was this guy really all that bad?" It seems he's got a good heart at least. He doesn't harm anybody that doesn't have it coming to them in one way or another, nor does he abuse any women. There's something lovable about his face even--if I were to go out on a bit of a limb. Ultimately, there were others in the picture whom I would be more ready to term "bad".

And then there's the question: Is this guy deaf? Just mute? Just not feel like talking? Whatever the case, his small posse of cronies doesn't seem to see his silent treatment as a hindrance to carrying on conversations with him, however monosyllabic.

I would not recommend this film. Nonetheless, if you're looking for something where everybody seems to get an unexplainable thrill from slapping others in the face countless times, you'll be on cloud nine. You would think one would become immune to such incessant slapping but I guess in Korea it's different.

Enter at your own risk.

Man. Did this film stink! One of the worst films I have ever seen. And I don't mean that in a good way. Everything about this film is bad. OK, there are a few decent shots of Tokyo freeways after dark. So what. They're wasted anyway. The acting is, like, are you kidding me? And the writing is so bad it's almost as if somebody collected all the mindless notes scribbled then discarded at Starbucks and turned them into something resembling a screenplay. It's too bad; the setting is rife with possibilities. But guess what? There's no story here worth printing on soiled toilet paper. Trust me, you're better off jumping off a building into a swimming pool filled with sour cream. Read a book or something.