In terms of both faithfulness to their source material and sheer entertainment value, the adaptations of Bret Easton Ellis's notoriously difficult, notoriously nihilistic novels have improved exponentially. Granted, these are tales that (on the surface, at least) do little more than add a smattering of sex, violence, drugs, and general bad behavior to the lives of blonde, vacant teenagers growing up spoiled rotten in the 1980s. Film has come a long way toward "understanding" (if such a thing is possible) and transferring Ellis's stock and trade into something cinematic. Directed by Gregor Jordan (whose name even seems pulled from the author's pages), "The Informers" is as scattered as its source (the screenplay was co-written by Ellis), with barely the bare bones of a cohesive plot–events are only really "connected" by the repeat appearances of its bored, oversexed, and/or strung out protagonists. In a very odd way, I was reminded of Terry Gilliam's "Tideland," a recent example of a film where the viewer's best response is to be swept along unquestioningly by the events that transpire, regardless of how ridiculous or bizarre they may be; "The Informers" begins awkwardly, giving only cursory introductions to barely-distinguishable characters, but eventually affects a lyrical rhythm of its own–Jordan composes countless shots of stunning beauty that are also (quite paradoxically) void of any semblance of humanity. True to Ellis, the characters are sad, pathetic, sadistic, and–above all–lost, searching for a deeper meaning that their hedonistic lifestyle keeps them from attaining. While lacking the biting wit of Ellis's work, "The Informers" will likely connect with the author's niche fans; others will find it as empty and nihilistic and pointless as its characters (which, as several note near the end, is the point exactly).