FLOST has all the noir hallmarks you love: doom, asskickings, strip clubs, kidnapping, murder, briefcases of money, and of course a f*ckload of tape. Well, those and singing. Yeah, it's somewhat of a musical. But don't worry, it's Tom-Waits-in-the-gutter type stuff, not Marry frigging Poppins. No one's smiling here; there's no spring in anyone's step. The lead actor delivers a gutty, tortured performance, and I thought his fatale did a particularly good job. As with most small indies, there are a few ill-delivered lines by secondary characters, and the editing lost the tone in a couple of over-stylized sequences. Overall, a great, worthy addition to the genre. The film's especially impressive when you consider the director also shot and lit it himself.
Review of A F**kload of Scotch Tape
