13 December 2011 | CarsonTrent
Charming stutter piece with a case of bad film grain °%*°%%*¨
Demy's story is not without charm, and in between the stutter in a simplistic seen it man traveling abroad to recover the body of his parent, and in the process searching and maybe finding himself story, revolving around a bunch of pretty much generic characters, his lead written for himself en-tête, there are some small finds, like Chaplin's play, or Hayek's yet another stripper character. Unfortunately, however, the most outstanding negative feature is not even the direction, which exemplifies how any setting can be displayed from the most unflattering and bleak angle, from Paris to L.A., with the most uninspired framing you could believe possible, or the shaky borderline earthquake documentary camera work, nor the dialog, which is not a stand out, but in the film quality itself. It reminded me of the execrable film grain of the civic education videos they used to project at the cinema before the movie in my home country 25 years ago during the communist era. I guess Demy found a stash somewhere. Slightly worn.
Also, on an even more humorous note, it will provide food for thought for those planning on some day spending a long weekend in Tijuana.