Great acting can't save this film, in which absolutely everything feels unnatural. Its origins as a "graphic novel" are all too apparent: every scene, word, and action feel like panels in a comic book.
The problem is that it disturbs the flow of the movie; it's hard to stay with the plot when every character acts like a comic-book character instead of a real one. If the movie were tongue-in-cheek it might work, but clearly we're supposed to take things seriously -- and that's hard to do when every word and action ring false.
Mortensen is very good, Bello is excellent (and smokin'), Ed Harris is brilliant, and William Hurt is completely miscast as a Philly gangster boss.
Both the violence and sex are graphic; the former is gratuitous and disturbing, the latter is very affecting.
The problem is that it disturbs the flow of the movie; it's hard to stay with the plot when every character acts like a comic-book character instead of a real one. If the movie were tongue-in-cheek it might work, but clearly we're supposed to take things seriously -- and that's hard to do when every word and action ring false.
Mortensen is very good, Bello is excellent (and smokin'), Ed Harris is brilliant, and William Hurt is completely miscast as a Philly gangster boss.
Both the violence and sex are graphic; the former is gratuitous and disturbing, the latter is very affecting.
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