Flashy, art-heist-crime thriller packs a satisfying combination of dramatic narrative and humor, so it almost avoids the Tarantino Genre classification-almost. Regrettably, the movie features a Dead Rock Star diner with corresponding quirky cameos. But not even the bloated, collapsed-lung presence of Michael Madsen, as a crime boss, can prevent the movie's second act from becoming a third act. And then there's another third act to go. The visuals are beautiful, the performances strong and sincere, primarily those involving the cool male characters (of course). Especially Emile Hirsch and Jon Rhys Meyers. The women get little to do but enjoy sex scenes while dripping in paint, dance in clubs, or look beautiful while being hurt, disappointed or confused. Or getting shot. The length of the movie dilutes what is supposed to be a riveting climax, and events soon favour Slick over Dramatic. Instead, what arrives is more confusion than excitement, as the different characters keep pursuing a stolen Andy Warhol painting. What follows is a collection of well-shot gun sequences, but at least the movie's action is free of noxious stutter-cut retardation and CGI excreta. Overall, the movie is entertaining, but becomes unbalanced as the drama and character humor that worked so well in the first hour deteriorate. Pop star Anastacia's performance of the title song in a club is a highlight. The European locations standing in for New York work well. Aaron Stielstra plays a mobster.
Review of American Night
