Review

  • If you want to see one film that advertises the worst excesses of indie cinema, look no further than this incredibly overlong mish mash that blends the worst excesses of Tarantino and Lynch in one unwatchable stew. Heck, we even have to LOOK at Tarantino, who plays (I can't bring myself to use the word 'acts') Johnny Destiny, a Christlike figure who shoots firebolts and appears in a swimming pool. The only saving grace is, as usual, James LeGros, who once again makes an effort to deliver a decent performance in another indie embarrassment.