Review: Decision To Leave

Image courtesy of MUBI.

 

Chan-wook Park's latest, the twisty romantic thriller "Decision to Leave," is often impressive in terms of its craft - the performances, the elegantly composed shots and, on occasion, a burst of frenetic visual creativity, such as a rooftop chase scene or a plunge from a mountain - but its labyrinthine plotting may eventually leave viewers a bit exhausted, even if they appreciate the style in which it was made.

Park is the director of such grim tales as "Oldboy" and "Stoker" as well as the erotic thriller "The Handmaiden," and his latest - despite its twisty nature - feels almost quaint in comparison to those previous pictures. While the film has its share of violence, there are no hammer attacks or people eating live squids.

In the film, Detective Hae-jun (Park Hae-il) is an obsessive who can't let his cases go until he solves them, therefore causing some tension at home with his wife, whom he mostly sees on the weekends and promises to continue having sex with even if they end up hating each other.

Their marriage is already on somewhat shaky ground when Hae-jun meets Seo-rae (Tang Wei), the Chinese wife of a mountain climber who has fallen to his death. The case is taken on by Hae-jun, who begins to realize that the fall possibly wasn't a suicide or accident, and that foul play is a possibility. Hae-jun's partner instantly suspects Seo-rae, but Hae-jun - who seems fascinated with her - makes excuses as to why she can't be guilty and gradually begins to get to know her better.

It's a nice, but subtle touch, that Park often shrouds the action in the fog-covered areas of Ipo, and adds a minor subplot about Hae-jun having vision problems, thereby forcing him to rely on some eye drops to be able to see. These two plot strands hint at Hae-jun's inability to see clearly or, more likely, his allowing things he doesn't want to see to blur his vision.

Some feelings develop between Hae-jun and Seo-rae - although I'd vouch more for the former than the latter's feelings in this scenario - but he doesn't allow things to proceed. However, he clearly thinks that some of Seo-rae's actions could be perceived as those of a guilty person, and he gives her some advice on how to clear up that situation.

Some time passes and Hae-jun and his wife have seemingly relocated. Oddly enough, they one day run into Seo-rae and her new husband, which comes as a surprise to the detective. Shortly after this encounter, Hae-jun finds himself enmeshed in a new case - I won't give away the details - that bears some similarity to the one that came before, and this time he takes a different approach. 

The film's second half moves more swiftly and the story feels less jumbled during this second case - which also shines a light on the details of the original case. It's difficult to discuss either one without giving too much away. Suffice it to say, Hae-jun must reassess his views of Seo-rae and his relationship with her. 

"Decision to Leave" received some glowing reviews and took home a top prize at this year's Cannes Film Festival. While I liked it - and was especially impressed by its camerawork and performances - it's not as shockingly memorable as "Oldboy" or "The Handmaiden." 

There's a lot to admire here, although the strength of the film's second half is slightly weighted down by the murkiness - a theme here - and often busy nature of its first half. The film has an ending that certainly sticks in the mind - and reminded me of other thrillers in which the hero was sort of left hanging - but this is, in my opinion, a good Park film - but not a great one. 

Review: TAR

Image courtesy of Focus Features.

Todd Field's stunning "TAR" - the director's first feature in 16 years - is sure to make a few ripples and, indeed, there are already debates as to not only what the film means but also where its stance lies on a controversial topic - cancel culture - that it occasionally tackles. I say occasionally because based on some of the discourse around the film, you'd think that's all that it's about. It's not.

More interestingly, many reactions to the film are of the knee-jerk variety. Some people are convinced that the film is anti-cancel culture, while others are convinced that it it's for it. But among the many things that make the film so fascinating is that it's less interested in taking a side in the debate - although the picture seems to have some opinions on the matter - but rather forcing the viewer to come to terms with where they stand on the matter. 

Or, as acclaimed maestro Lydia Tar (Cate Blanchett), the film's prickly lead character, tells another character during one of the film's tenser moments, music - and all great art, for that matter - is all about the questions posed, and often not so much the answers.

The film asks us to watch the spectacular downfall of Tar, whom we first meet as she's taking part in a culture festival being held by The New Yorker and being interviewed by that publication's Adam Gopnik (playing himself). Lydia expounds upon her work and mentor, the great Leonard Bernstein, and mostly dodges questions about being a trailblazing woman - who is married to a woman (Nina Hoss) - in a line of work predominantly and historically populated by white men. During her introduction, she's mentioned as being among a small handful of people in the EGOT club - which refers to those who have won the Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony.

But something is off and it's starting to make Lydia's uncomfortable. For starters, she's been particularly sensitive to noises - whether it's the patter of shoes on a staircase, the sound of a scream in a park when she's jogging, the ticking of a metronome, or a doorbell - and the introduction of these sounds are almost as jarring to the audience when they suddenly arrive. Lydia needs to escape the noise of the world to do her work - and her music is seemingly the one way she's able to do so, but she appears distracted.

We learn from interviews and discussions that Lydia had to erase part of herself to become part of the hierarchy of the classical music world - she has worked for the Cleveland, Philadelphia, Boston, and New York symphonies and is currently working on a project with the Berlin Symphony to record Mahler's challenging "Symphony 5" - and during a class she teaches where she reigns supreme, she tells the students that a conductor must "obliterate" oneself in front of an audience. She describes the process of learning the "intent" of a composer, and then learning to engage in a dialogue with them - but ultimately giving in to their vision.

During one particular Juilliard class early in the film, her vision is not shared by a student whom she calls upon - and eventually begins picking upon. The student - who describes himself as BIPOC pangender - says that he doesn't listen to the works of Bach because of the composer's philandering and because he can't relate to the cisgender, white male classical music world hierarchy. Lydia argues with the student - often condescendingly and dismissively - and makes some remarks that sound pretty bad when she later realizes that someone recorded and edited them to make them come off worse than were intended.

Lydia's assistant, Francesca (Noemie Merlant) quits and mysteriously disappears after Lydia fails to promote her when a position opens up in the symphony. Worse, the reason for her quitting also appears to have been driven by Lydia's request for Francesca to delete old emails between her and a young woman named Krista who was a Tar protege, possibly a lover, and has now committed suicide. Rumors that Lydia grooms young women and dangles promotions in exchange for sex also float to the surface.

"TAR" is intriguing not because it tackles the hot topic of cancel culture and not because it asks the viewer to pass judgment on Lydia, whom it must be noted is not necessarily portrayed sympathetically. On the one hand, her cruelty toward others - a fellow composer, assistants, members of the symphony she is conducting, etc. - makes it difficult to muster symphony when her acts finally catch up with her. On the other hand, is the work of an artistic genius simply dismissed once it's determined that they're not such a great person?

During one scene, a revered colleague has lunch with Lydia, and she tries to gently break the news that her past behavior is being scrutinized. However, she uses the example of other artists who have fallen out of favor for similar transgressions, prompting her lunch date to remark, "What do private and personal failings have to do with the work?" 

Likewise, in the scene that is sure to create the most controversy - the argument with the student in class - the film appears to be simultaneously skeptical of the white- - and mostly male- - dominated structure in which Tar has become a major player as well as the concept to debunk a musician such as Bach because he too was a part of that structure.

Field's first directorial work was the emotionally brutal and excellent "In the Bedroom," which he followed with the Tom Perrotta adaptation "Little Children." His latest is not only likely his best film to date, but also his most visually accomplished. Field played a small role in Stanley Kubrick's "Eyes Wide Shut" and his proximity to that director appears to have had some influence, as "TAR" often visually bears resemblance to a Kubrick picture in its style and enigmatic nature. Blanchett, already one of the greatest living actresses, gives one of her finest performances, appearing in nearly every scene of the movie and dominating every one of them.

The film's ending could be read as either a cruel joke or merely an exclamation point on just how much Tar cares for the work she does and how far down she's willing to go to be able to do it. A scene in which she watches a Leonard Bernstein clip at her childhood home a short while earlier might provide a clue. As I'd mentioned before, "TAR" raises a lot of questions - and isn't as much concerned with answering them as it is forcing the viewer to question where they stand, all while watching a fascinating and highly accomplished chronicle of a difficult artist's slow motion crash. This is one of the year's finest films.

Review: Triangle Of Sadness

Image courtesy of Neon.

 

Ruben Ostlund's "Triangle of Sadness," the director's second film in a row to win the Palm d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival, may not exactly stick the landing - it merely ends following a moment of considerable tension without much closure of any sort - and the entire film may be like shooting fish in a barrel, but it's an often amusing epic of bourgeoise bashing.

European cinema of the mid-1960s through the 1970s frequently satirized the ruling class - Luis Bunuel's oeuvre is especially filled with films of this type - but it's been a while since a filmmaker has made a film of this type, that is, if you don't count Ostlund's 2017 film "The Square," which took aim - and to lesser effect - at the modern art world, or the significantly bleaker movies of director Michael Haneke. 

"Triangle" starts out with a similar vibe to "The Square," but in this case it's poking fun at the world of high fashion, as British male model Carl (Harris Dickinson) tries and fails to land runway gigs, while his girlfriend, Yaya (Charlbi Dean) finds much greater success. In fact, it's her success that leads to a prolonged argument about who should pay the check at a fine dining establishment - it's one of the film's funnier jokes - during the movie's opening section.

Suddenly, and without much warning or explanation, the picture cuts to a luxury cruise liner where Carl and Yaya have apparently won a free trip. They are surrounded by a number of obnoxious members of Europe's upper crust - one woman aboard the ship demands that the crew "have fun" by taking a turn on the liner's water slide, knowing that they cannot tell her no, while others loudly brag about their wealth and one woman insists that the boat's sails must be cleaned, even though it doesn't have any.

The film takes its time introducing these various characters, and while many of them remain in the realm of caricature, a few stand out - namely, a Russian capitalist named Dimitry (Zlatco Burik) and a German woman (Iris Berben) who has suffered a stroke and can only repeat the phrase "In den wolken" - which means "in the clouds," and is obviously where Ostlund believes these people reside.

But shortly after the boat has launched, bad weather becomes a problem and a massive storm causes most of the guests to get sick, leading to a prolonged series of shots of people vomiting everywhere or dirty toilet water flooding parts of the ship. However, amid all these grotesqueries is one of the film's funniest set pieces - a drunken debate between capitalist Dimitry and the boat's socialist captain (Woody Harrelson), in which the duo overtake the intercom system and argue via famous quotes - my favorite is the captain's usage of a pretty funny Karl Marx quote.

After some bandits strike the boat, causing it to sink, the final third of the film is set on a deserted island, where only a handful of the crew and guests have survived. They are led by one of the ship's workers (Dolly De Leon) who realizes she's in a position of power due to the fact that none of the shipwrecked rich people know how to catch food or cook.

In this final third, which plays like a satirical "Lord of the Flies," the picture begins to take a more obvious route - although there's an amusing joke revolving around the usage of a whistle - and it finally builds to an intense finale, but then leaves the audience hanging, although it's pretty easy to guess what happens next.

Ostlund has become a favorite at Cannes, although his first film - the only one of three not to win the coveted Palm d'Or - remains my favorite. That film, of course, is "Force Majeure," in which a couple's bickering reaches new levels when the husband flees, leaving his wife and children to fend for themselves, during an avalanche at a ski resort. 

That film was mordantly funny, whereas his follow up, "The Square," took very obvious shots at the art world and his latest is mostly an amusing satire of the wealthy. It's full of easy targets and not exactly what I'd call biting satire, but the picture is funny enough, well-shot and outrageous enough to keep things interesting. It received mixed reviews at Cannes and its taking the top prize was a matter of some controversy. While Ostlund might not be operating here at the level of a, say, Bunuel, his latest is still worth seeing.

Review: Stars At Noon

Image courtesy of A24.

More of an extended - and occasionally too long - vibe than a story, Claire Denis' adaptation of Denis Johnson's novel, "Stars at Noon," feels like an unusual hangout movie in which two people whose motivations and backgrounds mostly remain mysterious - despite one of their penchants for vocalizing their every thought and complaint - and spend a lot of time in a dangerous place having sex and trying to stay one step away from the authorities.

The novel on which the film is based was written in 1986 and was set during the Nicaraguan Revolution of 1984. Curiously, the film is still set in Nicaragua but its story takes place in the present - in fact, there are several scenes during which the two leads are forced to stop and take COVID-19 tests before entering a premises.  

In the film, Margaret Qualley plays Trish, who is apparently a reporter - and I say "apparently" because she never appears to be reporting on anything, gets chewed out by an editor (John C. Reilly) via Zoom for some apparent reason, and seemingly has no instincts for getting to the bottom of things - trying to get out of Nicaragua after doing something to upset some bigwigs. It is mentioned that she wrote articles about "hangings" and murders, but her phone call with Reilly's editor involves a travel piece.

She stumbles onto a soft-spoken Englishman known as Daniel (Joe Alwyn) who it appears is being trailed by a number of shady characters - a sleazy cop, some CIA agent (Benny Safdie) and some Nicaraguan officials. Much of the picture involves Trish and Daniel being holed up in her seedy motel - where the proprietress doesn't take kindly to Trish calling it a "cesspool" - and having lots of sex in which the camera lingers on Qualley's chest or Alwyn's backside.

As I'd mentioned, the film is more of a vibe than a story - and there are moments when that vibe can be transfixing, especially during a scene at a dance hall where the two leads slow dance to a song that makes reference to the film's title and some neon lighting goes a long way toward creating atmosphere. Such scenes are coupled with more lethargic ones in which the duo walk down sidewalks in impoverished neighborhoods or hold vague discussions about how they're going to flee to Costa Rica.

Considering that the film's director is Claire Denis, the focus on atmosphere over plot mechanics isn't a surprise. The great filmmaker's best works - "Beau Travail," "Trouble Every Day," "Chocolat" (the 1988 film, not the Juliette Binoche vehicle) and "35 Shots of Rum" - are often elliptical and transfixing films that emphasize place and mood over narrative. And most of the time this works. This time, it produces more mixed results.

While "Stars at Noon" isn't a bad movie - in fact, it's often compelling when it's not killing time - it's a pretty minor work from a great director. I wasn't sure what to make of its strange plotting - and am still not sure what exactly Alwyn's character does for a living or why he's in trouble - and its occasional misogynistic dialogue aimed at Qualley's character. This is the type of movie that when it's working, it compels, but when it's not - and that's, unfortunately, more often than not - it feels like a lark from an immensely talented person.

Review: Halloween Ends

Image courtesy of Universal Pictures.

The "Halloween" saga may end - allegedly - with a bang, but it takes a whole lot of detours to get there. Those who are paying the price of admission to see Jamie Lee Curtis' Laurie Strode face off for the last time - allegedly - against serial killer Michal Myers in Haddonfield will get what they came for, even if the route getting there is a strange one, to say the least. Those who want a typical "Halloween" movie might find themselves scratching their heads.

David Gordon Green's trilogy kicked off in style with the 2018 film simply titled "Halloween," which found Laurie coming face to face with her boogeyman after 40 years - and the film acted as a direct sequel to John Carpenter's 1978 masterpiece, skipping over all of the goofy sequels - remember the one with the cult, or better yet, the third installment with the creepy pumpkin masks, not to mention Rob Zombie's foray into the franchise?

While Green's first entry was a success - and, perhaps, the second best overall "Halloween" movie - the second one, "Halloween Kills," leaned heavily on overstated social commentary and nauseating gore and felt more like some of those mediocre sequels of years past. "Halloween Ends," thankfully, is an improvement on the second entry in this series, even if it makes some curious - and, let's be frank, ballsy - choices.

For starters, the film's cold open leads you to believe that Myers will make an appearance, when in fact it is setting the stage for a new character, Corey Cunningham (Rohan Campbell), who is often the lead character in this "final" film in the series. Corey is babysitting an obnoxious brat who, through a freak accident of bad timing, falls to his death. Even though Corey is eventually exonerated, he becomes Haddonfield's second pariah - the honor for first place still belongs to Laurie, on whom the town misplaces its anger about Myers' killing sprees.

A few years later, we catch up with Laurie, who lives with her granddaughter, Allyson (Andi Matichak), now a nurse, and has seemingly gotten over the death of her daughter, Karen (Judy Greer). Laurie now enjoys cooking and writing a book about her experiences with Myers and the nature of evil - and her narration is occasionally a bit too on the nose, at one point noting how evil changes "shape," which I'm sure most "Halloween" fans would recognize as the name in which Myers' character is always listed in the credits ("The Shape").

When Laurie crosses paths with Corey, she sees a lost soul and relates to his anguish. She introduces him to Allyson, and their quickly blossoming romance is, perhaps, the film's most unbelievable turn of events. After being bullied by a group of band students - I'll admit, that's a new one - and generally picked upon by the town's nasty denizens, Corey begins to take a turn toward the dark side, and a somewhat unbelievable run-in with Myers that leads to his becoming the killer's - for lack of a better word - protege in the film's second most unbelievable turn of events. Similarly, Allyson's brief flirtation with darkness is also a little difficult to swallow - and, in fact, her entire character in this film appears to exist only for the purpose of plot mechanics.

The film's middle section spends a lot of time with Corey and Allyson, which will be viewed by some as a mistake, while I can at least appreciate that Green and company are aiming for something a little different than just the umpteenth "Halloween" movie. The final third of the picture kicks off a gory bloodbath in which Corey and Myers team up to knock off a whole lot of characters whose personas are generally unpleasant - the mean old band students, a sleazy doctor and his obnoxiously talkative assistant, a disc jockey who acts like an asshole to Corey and Allyson for seemingly no reason - so that no one will feel sorry for them when they're picked off.

And this all, of course, leads up to climactic fight at Laurie's house between her, Corey and Michael. Yes, of course, the film's final 15 minutes are a whole lot of fan service - but those scenes are intense and long awaited. For a sequel in a genre that often doesn't demand much other than screaming, Curtis really delivers in this film, which combined with her work earlier this year in "Everything Everywhere All At Once" shows how underrated she is. 

Some have questioned - and rightfully, based on many years of "Halloween" sequels - whether this will be the actual final chapter in the series. Without giving anything away specifically, I'd say it'll be difficult to continue this storyline in future installments. Whether movie studio executives with dollar signs in their eyes or horror filmmakers with a sadistic urge to inflict yet another "Halloween" movie on the public get their way down the road, it's hard to say. 

For now, "Halloween" ends - in a series of odd narrative choices, a solid ending and a strong performance from the actress who remains the Scream Queen. As such, it's the second best of this somewhat unexpected - and uneven - trilogy of "Halloween" movies.

Review: Hellraiser

Image courtesy of Hulu.

 

It seems inevitable that acclaimed horror filmmakers will eventually feel the pull of big budget filmmaking to get involved in a previously existing horror franchise - and my instinct would be to tell them to run in the opposite direction. It's a rare thing that a horror director who has earned bona fides by crafting something uniquely creepy or original has much to gain - other than a paycheck - by getting involved in a series that offers little in the way of invention.

Such is the case with David Bruckner, whose well-liked "The Ritual" remains unseen by me, but whose eerie and compelling "The Night House" certainly got my attention. And now, his latest is a reboot of the popular 1980s and 1990s horror series "Hellraiser," which was based on a novella titled "The Hellbound Heart" by British horror maestro Clive Barker.

The newly rebooted "Hellraiser" isn't so much bad as it is unnecessary. A bigger budget obviously made it possible for this new entry in the series to include oodles of special effects and better settings. It does not, however, make this already tired franchise any fresher. To be fair, I was never a huge fan of the original "Hellraiser" films from the 1980s - but I'll say this about them: They were distinctive.

Trying to explain the world of "Hellraiser" is a recipe for a headache, but suffice it to say that the film centers around a group of sadistic beings from another dimension known as the Cenobites whose God-like powers enable them to torment and torture anyone who has the misfortune to cross their paths. This happens when an unsuspecting victim stumbles upon The Lament Configuration, a puzzle box that jabs those holding it in the hand once they figure it out, thereby causing their blood to leak into the box and giving the Cenobites the right to claim them as theirs - that is, unless they sacrifice someone else.

In this case, the person to stumble upon the box is a recovering drug addict named Riley (Odessa A'zion), who has a fraught relationship with her brother, Matt (Brandon Flynn), and enlists the help of his boyfriend, Colin (Adam Faison), a roommate (Aoife Hinds) and her seemingly untrustworthy former addict boyfriend, Trevor (Drew Starkey), when Matt disappears. 

The Cenobites' primary interest is sensation - although mostly bad ones - and their victims are strung up on skin-piercing chains before having their flesh mutilated in ways that might have you reaching for a vomit bag. The original films felt somewhat provocative because they considered - as Chrissy Amphlett put it - the "fine line between pleasure and pain." 

The Barker-directed 1987 original and the ultra-gory sequel, "Hellbound," were often surreal, kinky and frightening. The new version looks better, but it mostly follows the style of a typical American horror film in which a group of young people are being pursued by something awful. In the original "Hellraiser" films, many of the human characters were awful themselves, whereas those in the remake -  although there are a few who are particularly nasty - are mostly plagued by poor decision-making. 

Likewise, it's an interesting choice to make the lead Cenobite villain a woman - however, while Doug Bradley gave Pinhead some distinctive personality and menace in the original films, Jamie Clayton's The Priest speaks in a voice that seemingly intentionally drains it of any type of emotion and, in the process, sounds robotic. The Cenobites are disturbing to look at, but they had more of a presence in the original pictures, whereas here they become the typical stalking entities that lurk in the shadows and plague characters in horror movies (for another recent example, see "Smile").

It's not so much an issue of whether the new "Hellraiser" is good or bad - it's good enough from a visual standpoint, but the film's characters seemingly only exist to make stupid decisions that put them in harm's way - but whether we need this at all. Bruckner displayed some real talent with "The Night House," so his attaching himself to this film feels like a career step, rather than an expansion of an interesting horror filmmaker's point of view. If gory - but not particularly scary - horror movies are your thing, you might enjoy "Hellraiser." Others need not apply.

Review: Amsterdam

Image courtesy of 20th Century Studios.

 David O. Russell's "Amsterdam" is an admirable misfire - a film that is consistent in being visually compelling throughout and kept me curious to know where was going, even if its ultimate destination is a little obvious and it never quite gels like it should. Much like his previous film, "Joy" - although that film was better - Russell's latest is a far cry from his best work: "Three Kings," "I Heart Huckabee's," "American Hustle" and "Silver Linings Playbook."

One of the film's biggest problems is its capacity to continuously get waylaid by its idiosyncrasies. The story will move forward an inch and then characters will meander into a rambling monologue - or a quirky diversion will suddenly take precedence over all else, often to the detriment of the overall film. Russell's style of directing actors has been known to be chaotic - to say the least - but it has worked better in previous efforts (for example, "Huckabee's," which was all over the place, but in a good way).

It's difficult to summarize a movie like this one. It starts out at the end of World War I, when a doctor named Burt Berendsen (Christian Bale) bonds with a soldier, Harold Woodman (John David Washington), in the predominantly Black platoon that he has been charged with overseeing, and the duo go on to form a friendship with a nurse named Valerie (Margot Robbie), although Harold's relationship with her eventually becomes more than platonic.

The three have a whirlwind friendship in Amsterdam, but Burt is called back to New York, where his wife and her upper crust family expect him to join their family practice, although Burt is more prone to helping those down on their luck. The trio splits up and it's not until 1933 when they reunite - this time, to solve the murder of their commander, whose daughter (Taylor Swift) has hired them for the job.

But another murder soon occurs, and Burt and Howard try to find a way to clear their names while at the same time figuring out who killed their beloved commander. Their misadventures lead them back to Valerie, who joins the men in the case. 

Suffice it to say, convoluted plot turns abound. The trio are notified by two spies (Michael Shannon and Mike Myers) that the murder may have to do with a secret society in the United States that is sympathetic to the burgeoning fascist governments in Italy and Germany, and they are told their best bet to get to the bottom of the conspiracy is to invite a revered general (Robert De Niro) to speak out against this secret cabal during an event at which Burt and Howard are planning to honor wounded war veterans.

As I'd mentioned, "Amsterdam" is never dull. During the course of its two-and-a-quarter-hour proceedings, I was always curious where it would land next. Ultimately, the film could be described as a messy misfire - but not one without merits. Although the characters often devolve into caricature, most of the massive cast - which also includes Zoe Saldana, Timothy Olyphant, Chris Rock, Andrea Riseborough, Rami Malek, Alessandro Nivola, Anya Taylor-Joy and Matthias Schoenaerts - acquit themselves well enough, Bale especially.

The film is full of visual wonders - war scenes, streetscapes of 1930s New York, elaborate mansions, you name it - and its visual style is impressive enough. It touches upon historic themes of eras past that feel unsettlingly relevant today as well. And despite its occasional tendency toward whimsy, there are some laughs. 

But, ultimately, it's not enough - "Amsterdam" feels like a movie bursting with personality that doesn't know how to direct it into a package that feels complete. As such, the film often feels aimless, even when it's entertaining, and unsure of what exactly it wants to say. Regardless, it's worth catching for those interested in Russell's overall body of work - but others might not know exactly what to make of it.