Five married guys conspire to secretly share a penthouse loft in the city--a place where they can carry out hidden affairs and indulge in their deepest fantasies. But the fantasy becomes a nightmare when they discover the dead body of an unknown woman in the loft, and they realize one of the group must be involved.
The architect Vincent Stevens; the psychiatrist Chris Vanowen; the real estate agents Luke Seacord and Marty Landry; and Chris' half-brother Philip Trauner are married and best friends. Vincent has designed a brand new building and proposes that he and his friends share one of the wonderful penthouse lofts. This would allow them to hook up with other women without worrying about hotel charges showing up on their credit cards. When they discover the body of a beautiful woman cuffed on the bed in the loft, they argue over whom is responsible and secrets are disclosed affecting their friendship. Written by
Claudio Carvalho, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
[All goofs for this title are spoilers.]
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I swear to God, I had nothing to do with this.
We would love to believe you, Mr. Stevens. But you have to admit, your version of events does sound pretty bizarre. Don't you think?
Look, it was a setup, okay? The whole thing was staged.
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"The Loft" is a remake of a Belgian film, and focuses on five married men who go in on a ritzy high rise loft for the purposes of pursuing their affairs and sexual escapades. When a girl winds up dead in a pool of blood in the loft, the five men panic as they attempt to unravel who she is and where she came from.
Taking some cues from Hitchcock (and not exactly with a fraction of Hitch's poise), "The Loft" is an overall entertaining film, but the script at times is the equivalent of a cheap Rubik's cube— it looks fine, it's a fun puzzle, I guess, but it's really just not that impressive overall.
The film shifts between past and present, unraveling the narrative through flashbacks which are sandwiched between the current dilemma of the four men arguing in the loft over the corpse of the dead blonde. The pacing is a bit choppy, and the transitions rather abrupt. James Marsden and Wentworth Miller are among the film's greatest star power here, but the cast overall is really underwhelming, and the performances are at times borderline campy as the men play up their roles as buffoonish plutocratic mattress hounds.
The finale cements my feelings of the film as an underwhelming thriller that seems more suited for television than the silver screen, but I still can't say it was totally not worth the time. In spite of the hammy performances, the disjointed narrative, and the overall sensibility of utter lifelessness that the film has, it is still by and large an entertaining flick. Nearly impossible to take seriously, but for entertainment's sake, it's passable. 5/10.
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