I can’t get on the Sienna Miller bandwagon. I can damn with faint praise: she’s perfectly competent as an actor — but that’s it. What’s compelling about this intimate pas de deux of a film is Steve Buscemi (I Think I Love My Wife): his smart script (adapted from Dutch filmmaker Theo van Gogh’s 2003 movie of the same name), his easy direction, his compelling performance opposite Miller (Stardust). She’s a hotshot movie starlet — think Lindsay Lohan less messed up, or Mandy Moore a tad sleazier; he’s a political journalist being punished for a professional indiscretion with an assignment to interview her about her latest project. She’s a sneaky bitch, though not truly in any deeply interesting way; he’s far more fascinating, a snob who thinks he can fake his way through this demeaning job, a sneaky bastard himself who thinks he’s far cleverer than he is. They’re each pulling wool over the other’s eyes, but the flight of fancy they each think they’re along on could have been a helluva lot more intriguing if Miller’s character was as conflicted and as self-deluded as Buscemi’s… or if the actor playing her were able to bring something meaty to her slick yet bland surface.