Everybody talks like they had a stroke and their brain reverted to being 14 and listening to My Chemical Romance. From the soundtrack to the pace and the neon cinematography you can tell that the director tries to rip off NWR, so I guess he got done with the Coen brothers now.
Not a lot happens, but they really try to stretch the running time by having characters spew cringe purple prose and two words a minute. You can also smell the disgusting air of superiority with which the director paints a "social tapestry" of all the small people, people that speak with broken grammar, except when they burst into spontaneous Bukowski monologues.
Sucked balls.
Not a lot happens, but they really try to stretch the running time by having characters spew cringe purple prose and two words a minute. You can also smell the disgusting air of superiority with which the director paints a "social tapestry" of all the small people, people that speak with broken grammar, except when they burst into spontaneous Bukowski monologues.
Sucked balls.