The Brave

Depp's directorial debut is a folie de grandeur. There's nothing intrinsically wrong with the story, in which Depp, a Latin or Native American - it's unclear which - living with his wife and kids in a shanty town next to a garbage dump, decides to help his family escape poverty by being paid a fortune for his own death. But after the scenes in which he makes his deal with Brando - a snuff-movie producer? (again it's unclear) - the film goes seriously off the rails as it forsakes glum realism for maudlin sentiment and whimsical, symbolic fantasy (Depp gets back in touch with his kids and builds a fairground for the other dispossessed). Besides the implausibilities, the direction has two fatal flaws: it's both tediously slow and hugely narcissistic as the camera focuses repeatedly on Depp's bandana'd head and rippling torso.