Here’s a strange little crime picture. Robert De Niro’s a parole officer, Edward Norton’s an arsonist, Milla Jovovich is Norton’s wife, a childlike country beauty ready to sleep with anything that moves. You think it’s going to be a predictable programmer and instead it turns into a muddled, inconclusive meditation on sin, redemption and God… that would’ve been better as a predictable programmer.
I guess I have to give director John Curran and writer Angus MacLachlan props for taking a big philosophical cut at the ball, but you either have to construct your story to contain these ideas or only allow it to contain the ideas it’s built to contain. This one was meant to be steamy and stupid and can’t make the leap to Dostoevsky.
And oh yeah: How come I never meet any childlike country beauties ready to sleep with anything that moves? Either I’m not hanging out in the right places or these girls are just figments of male writers’ imaginations. Or maybe I should stop standing by the side of the road holding a cardboard sign that says, “Will work for childlike country beauty who sleeps with anything that moves.” That could be chasing them away.
Pass on this. I respected the effort but it doesn’t work.