Every now and again you take a chance on a film you don't know and with Viggo Mortensen's name to the fore and a Patricia Highsmith novel as the source. this looked like a good bet, but sadly, this is the sort of film that put me off going to the cinema with its mumbling dialogue, dull and predictable plot and camera conscious performances. Characters I couldn't care less about wandering around aimlessly with no tension built anywhere - probably because you don't give a rats what happens to anyone, and a stupid ending to top it off. I kept waiting for something to happen, but it never did. Fine if you like lots of close ups of the leading man smoking and drinking, but how I wish I had gone to see something else - anything else instead.
Review of The Two Faces of January
