Big daddy Francis will always be the godfather, while Sofia has become an unexpectedly potent Michael Corleone, taking care of business film after film. Obviously, this makes 47-year-old Roman Coppola the Fredo of the family: He’s directed only two features (and a ton of music videos), but they’re so laced with shag-era nostalgia and hipster retro passion that you wonder if he’s been unable to face the present. Make your own destiny, royal scion! Coppola casts post-tiger-blood Charlie Sheen as the mysterious title playboy, a mid-1970s L.A. graphic designer with a penchant for blonds and aggressively kitschy decor (a hot-dog couch sits prominently in his office). But the sex-addled Swan is dumped by Ivana (Katheryn Winnick), so it’s time for a movie-long wallow.
What exactly are we mourning? Nothing about our main character and his failed relationship is moving—or conveyed beyond the conventional shoes-throwing breakup scene—so your eye wanders to an exquisitely re-created bachelor pad or a Jewfro-topped Jason Schwartzman on a horse. Fellini used to get away with such slender crises, but he had Marcello Mastrioanni behind the shades, as well as a more vivid penchant for psychosexual fantasy. Coppola and Swan are stuck in their obsessions with dorky album art and old-man cocktails at Musso & Frank. A precious, arid thing, Glimpse arrives pinned to Styrofoam like a prize arthropod.
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