American ugly

It's time for novelist -- and now screenwriter -- Bret Easton Ellis to let the '80s go, at least on a movie screen.
"The Informers," Ellis's most recent dive into "hedonism run amuck" in the author's decade of choice (following "Less Than Zero" and "American Psycho"), is as soul-less as a feature film as the characters the author brings to semi-life.
Ellis doesn't direct, however. That duty befalls Australian Gregor Jordan, with "Buffalo Soldiers" and "Ned Kelly" on his list of credits.
Jordan draws kudos for assembling a fascinating ensemble cast led by Billy Bob Thornton, Kim Basinger and Winona Ryder, and including Oscar nominee Mickey Rourke ("The Wrestler"), Jon Foster, Amber Heard ("Pineapple Express") and Brad Renfro.
What the director doesn't manage to do is make us care about the characters. "The Informers" wasn't a novel as such, but a string of short stories with characters that occasionally overlapped.
Thornton is his usual morose self as movie studio head William Sloan, who left wife Laura (Basinger) behind to get friendly with the pool boy while he chased after a younger TV newscaster.
I actually like Ryder as mentally fragile Cheryl Moore. Ryder's more adult than we've seen her before, and she's one of the only members of this cast who bothers to really get under the skin of a character.
"The Informers" spends much of its time exploiting the very 1980s over-indulgence of sex, drugs and, briefly, rock 'n' roll that it pretends to be protesting. I suppose this is intended as an anti-AIDS anthem, but you would never know it until the final shot.
Characters are introduced, featured briefly and, in more cases than not, just ignored without resolution.
Jordan manages just one moment of truly effective cinema. The characters portrayed by Thornton and Basinger form a momentary marital truce and get back together. A single limo ride changes all that, however.
That scene will remain embedded in my mind for a long time.
Trouble is, it's just not enough.

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