The Informers really is an unusual kind of terrible, but there is actually a very real possibility that it is a misunderstood work of unparalleled directorial ingenuity. The off-kilter overdubbing, the soft focus camera-work, the trite youth-gone-wild bullsh*t dialogue, the nihilistic soft-core group sex - its all exactly like a DTV Zalman King production, and nothing quite sums up the rank, dilapidated sleaziness of the early 1980s than a DTV Zalman King. If Gregor Jordan's career ends up warranting serious critical reappraisals in the future, then this is going to be the gleaming, once-misinterpreted jewel in some chancer's festival retrospective.
But from here, its just appalling. The good actors involved are coasting (Billy Bob Thornton in particular looks as if he's performing from the vantage point of a prozac coma) and the bad actors are left to use their questionable skills to turn every other scene into full-tilt soap opera. The screenplay (co-authored, surprisingly, by Brett Easton Ellis himself) is completely unaware of itself, and so tiresomely arch and condescending that it feels, again, like a product of the 1980's rather than some kind of commentary of it.
Reeling off a plot synopsis would be beyond pointless, as it consists of little more than a series of unconnected, uninteresting things happening to some deeply unlikeable people. Everyone appears to be operating under the assumption that this is a satire, but the funniest thing about it is the sheer inappropriateness of the supposedly suckerpunch coda. No prizes.
American Psycho aside, if you want a to see Ellis' rather one-note universe rendered shrewdly on screen, you should really check out Roger Avary's severely underrated Rules Of Attraction.
But from here, its just appalling. The good actors involved are coasting (Billy Bob Thornton in particular looks as if he's performing from the vantage point of a prozac coma) and the bad actors are left to use their questionable skills to turn every other scene into full-tilt soap opera. The screenplay (co-authored, surprisingly, by Brett Easton Ellis himself) is completely unaware of itself, and so tiresomely arch and condescending that it feels, again, like a product of the 1980's rather than some kind of commentary of it.
Reeling off a plot synopsis would be beyond pointless, as it consists of little more than a series of unconnected, uninteresting things happening to some deeply unlikeable people. Everyone appears to be operating under the assumption that this is a satire, but the funniest thing about it is the sheer inappropriateness of the supposedly suckerpunch coda. No prizes.
American Psycho aside, if you want a to see Ellis' rather one-note universe rendered shrewdly on screen, you should really check out Roger Avary's severely underrated Rules Of Attraction.