Straightforward forgettable aliterary script (which I hate to deprecate,
having watched Blood Simple on tv just a week ago as my go-to show
during commercial breaks of the NBA finals and having been totally captivated, to the
point I was missing key plays in the game because I couldn't tear myself away
from watching the film, the scene where the dude is buried alive one
of the all-time overwhelming cinema experiences, and the false ending followed
by all the unanticipated further machinations amazingly clever and suspenseful)
that plods through hardship after hardship after hardship, with no relief of any
kind, violating the fundamental law of drama that requires variety
within a given work, which is not to criticize war-hero protag Louis Zamperelli
(sp?), who endured the unendurable, all respect and honor to him, but director
Angelina Jolie (in her directing debut?) produced a documentary, not a feature
film, and brother does it drag.
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