Time Out says

Outfitted in Swingers castoffs and retro pompadour, Frank (Simm) mans the front desk at a library slated for demolition. Dynamite in a trenchcoat, Miranda (Ricci) loiters about the joint, much to Frank's fascination. Her mouth receives special scrutiny when she attacks sushi, 'gorging on uncooked flesh like a vampire', as Frank marvels. The black widow also pulls on cigarettes as if sucking the life juice from some poor sap's jugular. Frank sticks his neck out, but after a couple of weeks of nonstop and apparently fully clothed bonking, the ostentatiously bored Miranda moves on to more pressing business: an impenetrable real-estate scheme masterminded by her withered mentor Christian (Hurt) - selling non-existent buildings - which entangles her reptilian sometime lover, the evocatively named Nailor (MacLachlan). This quasi-noirish, woefully confused romance springs from a stage monologue by Rob Young (notable previous theatre credit: The Man with the Absurdly Large Penis); and the monochrome personalities betray these origins. Hazy fantasy Miranda and saintly goon Frank (sample outburst: 'I come from a stupid little town where my mates live and it's called home') improvise an oddly hostile courtship dance, while the plot stumbles about in search of its next non sequitur: intimations of sado-masochism, an inevitable kidnapping. The film even fashions a blasphemous Vertigo-style makeover for its femme fatale, who is blunt-cut from the Hollywood rom-com stable of highly strung career gals in need of a 'you complete me' speech. Frank never gets to deliver it, for which we can only be grateful. JWin.


Release details

93 mins

Cast and crew

Marc Munden
Rob Young
Christina Ricci
John Simm
Kyle MacLachlan
John Hurt
Julian Rhind-Tutt
Cavan Clerkin
Matthew Marsh
Pik-Sen Lim
Joanne Froggatt
Tamsin Greig