The first directing job for producer Lili Fini Zanuck (not a born Zanuck, a Zanuck by marriage), whose seriousness about the job goes as far as, but not much farther than, the closeup of a hypodermic needle in the arm of the leading man. No shrinking violet is our Lili. On a purely stylistic level, her seriousness goes as far as the opening shot, a long-distance, hand-held, Julien Temple-esque tracking shot around and out the door of a Texas beer joint. Tidbits of drug-world expertise litter our path ("It's a better high if you're dirty. It doesn't leak through the skin"), but not nearly enough of them to enable us to follow the daily routine and long-range plans of a hardened undercover narc (Jason Patric, looking and sounding about as jaded and burnt-out as a late-night deejay on a progressive-jazz station) and his "virgin" female partner (Jennifer Jason Leigh: "Ah cun dyoo wut ut tikes"). The storyline doesn't advance; it wallows. There's a great deal of sitting, crawling, and curling up on the nearest available floor. The white-trash ambience is so thick you'd need a Caterpillar to plow through it. With Sam Elliott and Max Perlich. 1991.

Duncan Shepherd

This movie is not currently in theaters.

Comments

Sign in to comment

Join our newsletter list for
$5 off your next purchase
on our daily deal site, ReaderCity.com

Close