Gone are the days when I give a neo-noir a pass for simply being one, but I still like this film. Mostly for the performances, the way Edward Norton crawls under my skin, the way Damon seems so confident (is this the late-90's answer to the early-70's Redford?), the way Malkovich eats Oreos, the way Landau is so trusting.
Maybe it's all a little too perfectly clever. But that's okay.
It's a film about clever.
The narration is smart enough.
That smart narration kind of smart that confidently says what is really happening.
I might not buy it with a lesser bunch of actors. I might not buy any of it.
But that's why there are actors and that's why they command salaries.
The muted jazz score.
The wet city feeling.
It is all very uncomfortable.
I guess the troubling thing is how clever people can make such bad decisions.
film journal entry: 04.14.2013
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