Wong Kar-wai's first English feature burns, splutters and slowly dies out. With his regular ingredients of leading men who smoke, mysterious women, fractured relationships, blossoming love and cops; the featured strained to be ethereal, beautiful and melancholic but something was lost in translation.The casting was poor and the acting was abysmal other than for David Strathairn. The music was listless in spite of the presence of Ry Cooder or rather his absence. But what was missed the most were the saturated hues of Christopher Doyle and that melancholic streak which usually graces all of Kar-wai's flicks.
Rating: * +
