Polisse (review)
It’s like the French version of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, except every case is one that would send Detective Elliot Stabler totally mental and inspire him to punch a wall or two.
It’s like the French version of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, except every case is one that would send Detective Elliot Stabler totally mental and inspire him to punch a wall or two.
The story is almost beside the point, because Tom Cruise’s nude torso that I could be running my hands all over and because the young kittenish leads in this story cobbled together around awesome 80s hair-band stadium anthems are the weakest part of it.
Wants to be an ambitious SF drama, but somewhere along the way, the provocative speculation and the seriocomic tragedy got lost. Oh, and the characters got forgotten, too. Plus there’s precious little authentic drama.
Would really really like for you to feel the grand, sweeping, larger-than-life mythos, and borrows willy-nilly from Peter Jackson and Guillermo Del Toro to try to do so.
It’s intended to be delightful, but it feels as long as a pregnancy itself, this roundrobin of forcefully interconnected tales of incipient parenthood.
I kept hoping to get caught up in this untold story of the French Resistance in more than a coolly intellectual way, but that never happened.
A time travel plot can feel like a huge narrative swindle if not handled correctly. But there’s no big do-over button hovering over this tale. Nope: the timey-wimey stuff here is clever, funny, thrilling, even poignant.
If there’s one thing I learned from Julie Delpy’s wonderfully eccentric dramedy, it’s that Parisians are as neurotic as New Yorkers. Who knew?
I’m struggling to find reasons to do more than merely coolly appreciate, from an emotional distance, the disagreeably detached dissection of young girls’ sexuality on offer…
It’s a movie, not the latest first-person shooter, but it might as well be.