Riding across Manhattan in a stretch limo in order to get a haircut, a 28-year-old billionaire asset manager's day devolves into an odyssey with a cast of characters that start to tear his world apart.
After getting into a serious car accident, a TV director discovers an underground sub-culture of scarred, omnisexual car-crash victims who use car accidents and the raw sexual energy they produce to try to rejuvenate his sex life with his wife.
After developing an addiction to the substance he uses to kill bugs, an exterminator accidentally murders his wife and becomes involved in a secret government plot being orchestrated by giant bugs in a port town in North Africa.
On the spur of the moment, twenty-eight year old Manhattan self-made multi-billionaire Eric Packer decides he wants to get a haircut from his regular and longtime barber across town, a difficult journey today if only because of the traffic gridlock from three high profile but vastly different events taking place in the borough, including a wandering anarchist protest, they who largely use dead rats as their symbol of protest. Through his trek, Eric, most taking place in his stretch limousine, meets with several business associates - some with as esoteric job titles as Head of Theory - and personal acquaintances, including his several week bride, Elise, a wealthy woman in her own right with who he still has a somewhat distant relationship if only because they don't really know each other. The start of Eric's day ends much differently than the end as his personal fortune largely hinges on external forces in relation to a speculative currency transaction, and as he learns that someone is... Written by
The license plate number on Eric's limousine is 9808 NAH. See more »
I wanna a haircut.
The president's in town.
We don't care. We need a haircut. We need to go crosstown.
You will hit traffic that speaks in quarter inches.
Just so I know. Which president are we talking about?
United States. Barriers will be set up. Entire streets deleted from the map.
Show me my car.
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So bad, it's not even worth wasting my time writing a detailed review.
The film is a long, uninteresting, verbal masturbation session. It's two hours of proselytizing from characters you don't care about, who don't say anything you couldn't have read off an Occupy Wall Street protest sign.
Don't believe anyone who tells you it's genius.
I would have walked out of the cinema after 30 minutes if I hadn't been with a friend's family. I honestly considered feigning illness so as to have a valid excuse to leave. Hands down one of the worst films I have ever seen (this coming from someone who's seen "Weekend at Bernie's 2").
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