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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Pre-credits title card: a rat became the unit of currency ZBIGNIEW HERBERT See more »
Simply put, this has got to be one of the weirder films I've seen. Like an American version of a French art film. The film builds absolutely no momentum at all. There is exactly one surprising moment. Surprising because, like with a lot of the film, the action made no sense. Yes, you can argue that the film is about the dialog and I'll admit there is probably some profound insights to be found. But what good does insightful dialog make if you're about to fall asleep constantly. Besides, if you argue that the dialog is at the center, then there are plenty of scenes of graphic nature which do absolutely nothing to further the story in itself. As far as the dialog is concerned, those scenes could just as well have been placed in a coffee shop.
Paul Giamatti's performance, although short, was a small highlight of the movie. Even though it also dragged on, it once again showed why this guy stays on the radar all the time. For those that are only interested in the movie due to Pattison's torso, there is some material for you. His acting though is not that good. Not sure if that's because of the script or because of other reasons.
In short, if you're keen on watching a dialog for 109 minutes, then this might be for you. Don't expect anything but weird, and somewhat pointless action scenes though.
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