
[Click here for a reminder of the concept behind the "Capsule Reviews" series.]
Amateur (Hal Hartley, 1994/1995): A work of hysterical originality, Hal Hartley’s fourth feature synthesizes crime-genre hallmarks and superbly silly banter — floppy disks are a subject of endless debate — in a manner that recalls Quentin Tarantino, except that Hartley appears so deliriously lost inside his own voice that he tends to risk cohesion for tonal singularity. This is generally all for the better: from the moment Isabelle Huppert is introduced to us as a nymphomaniac-virgin hybrid (“I’m choosy,” is her reasoning), Amateur promises a level of sly goofiness that is maintained throughout the film. To make things even stranger, Huppert’s character is a nun-turned-pornography-author, and her discussion companion (Martin Donovan) has just awoken from a violent encounter and has no memory of his identity. Their first conversation, set inside an empty diner, is directed by Hartley in an extended take, and the movement of the actors dictates the frame: keep an eye on the way Donovan circles around Huppert, never staying on one side of her for too long. Their story is presented alongside a parallel plot involving a pack of unusual personalities: famous adult-film star Sofia Ludens (Elina Löwensohn); a shady, unpredictable accountant, (Damian Young, beyond insane); two hit-men (Chuck Montgomery and Dave Simonds) who could hardly be more incompetent; and a missing-persons police officer (Pamela Stewart) whose sensitivity drives her boss nuts. The two narrative threads, as they must, eventually coalesce, but never quite how you’d imagine: part of the magic of Hartley’s voice is that his love for his characters is always felt, and yet he’s liable to kill any one of them at any given moment. The original music he co-composed with Jeff Taylor is killer, too. [Tentative Rating: ***1/2]











