Time Out says
Largely set, as its title suggests, during the hours of darkness, ‘After Midnight’ is marked by a fey, somewhat distanced tone – characterised by a sarky-chatty omniscient narrator – and an occasional, less sentimental focus on its leads’ emotional shortcomings. Martino’s reliance on viewing life through a lens, at first endearingly vulnerable, takes on a creepy, voyeuristic edge, while the hurtful potential of Amanda’s attempts to have both her men and keep them don’t go unobserved.
Perhaps predictably for a film so self-consciously besotted with cinema and storytelling, however, the characters remain at one remove, with whimsical implausibilities (from nonchalantly borne bullet wounds to Fibonacci series-inspired lottery wins) compounding the impression given by the narration that they are shadow puppets dancing to a familiar tune. Martino likes the old magic lantern shows, we are told, because they had no characters, only locations – so it’s apt that ‘After Midnight’s’ most striking component is the Mole itself, a towering, hollow form offering panoramic views that are all location, no people.
Cast and crew