Wednesday, November 9, 2011

I wear my sunglasses at night



So The Informers is another movie about rich people behaving badly in 1980s L.A., in the fine tradition of empty '80s adaptations of the equally empty novels of Brett Easton Ellis. I actually like him, for what's it's worth, when I'm in the mood for amoral, coke-fuelled name-dropping and overprivileged kids failing to navigate the basics of human decency. (don't forget the obligatory threesomes!) The shiny surfaces of the Easton Ellis universe can be compelling, so I'm not sure why they've so often failed to translate into good films.

When you have a cast that includes Winona Ryder, Chris Isaak, a mostly naked Amber Heard and Brad Renfro (sigh) it's downright criminal that they don't do anything with them. Although, Lou Taylor Pucci shows up as some kind of physical successor to the best part of Pretty In Pink (outside of Duckie's sweet moves) - and for that we ought to be grateful.


Maybe they should have left in the vampire sublot?

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