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I saw Killing Zoe this weekend. No, worse, I bought the Killing Zoe DVD this weekend, then watched it. Here's what happened that fateful friday afternoon in Carrefour:
Roger Avary. Hmmn, heard of him. Tarantino's Exec. Producer, so he must have had some sort of positive influence. Of course, Jean-Hughes Anglade was class in Subway and Betty Blue (37°5 le matin), Julie Delpy's quite sweet...I saw Eric Stolz in Berwick upon Tweed's WHSmith once, so we're practically related. Ooh, look at the pretty box! Should be good, even at 25 Euros.
Wrong.
I don't think I've ever sat through such a rotten, needlessly and nastily violent, artless, selfconscious, lumbering-scripted, intravenous drug use-glamourising, misogynistic, lame-acted, come-to-Paris-twats film in all my born days. I was just over having a chuckle at the Paycheck review so thoughtfully provided by MahlerIsgod, when it struck me that in comparison with this putrid bowl of turgid, festering muck, that particular sci-fi aberration comes out looking like 2001...Or AI, at least.
The very worst part came halfway through the climactic heist scene when I realised to my utter horror that I'd seen the film before.
1/10, for Julie.
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