What ensues is a story that oscillates between prolific nonsense and a kind of half-mastered socio-political consciousness, which mixes resentment of immoral techno-fascists, fascination with their show-houses, and a slightly perverted obsession with the archetypal actress—whatever kind of realist, she might not be a seesaw. On the brink of the legal age of consent, but nonetheless made up and designed to evoke the image of a barely pubescent anime, or lolita. I’m sorry to say that Krug and Monaghan are awful in this, though it’s hard to blame them in whole or in part, given the blocky script and the director’s inability to direct in slipping and producing a wonderfully wrecked film, and the cute audience rejoicing with lust even though they know it’s stupid.
A lot of the issues come back to the question of whether you’re watching the kind of movie that cares about believable psychology or the movie that doesn’t care so much. He handles the plight of Skye’s roommate with more sensitivity than one might expect, but he also suffers the hero breaking his leg with a tire iron while attempting to break into a car, and then gives us no indication of the impact of this horrific crime. Psychology of the victim (mostly, he acts as if he were a nuisance).
We soon realize that we will never find out who Heaven “really” is because in its head there is nothing but greed and evil. Kudos, sort of, for taking another giant step into raw, unpolished depravity by bringing in character Frank Grillo (another memorable performer in the movie) to play the wise, wise, and mastermind. The grinning rendition of Grillo, New York tough guy, and retro pompadour from the 1950s has been read as an evocation of Mickey Rourke, the heir to screen debauchery of the late ’80s and early ’90s, and home-remodeling Michael Cimino starring the likeness-like invasion thriller ‘The Desperate Hours’. Sometimes the last third of the movie (along with both versions of “Funny Games”).