In what has to be one of the more stranger/esoteric cast-ensembles, this film never really finds itself. Is it a dark dromedy', a spoof on the art world, is the film deliberately pretentious and self aware to mirror the self-importance of the modern art world, or just poking fun at the clueless rich? I can't figure it out, thats the directors fault. Gillian Anderson, one of Hollyweird's hottest lesbians, who only seems to only get prettier as she ages, as the lead, sucks the life out of every scene, poor lassie can't act. She needs to stick to pensive brooding and muted soft-spoken pouting, with the posed slow-motion blinking. Otherwise the cast is very talented, all with discrete character development: none of them very redeeming or likable. Most unusual, is the setting which takes place in London, yet feels like its in lower Manhattan, half of the cast is American; I thought Madonna was the only wealthy American to transplant despite the indigenous draconian tax-rate. Most everyone is a self-assumed art critic or "genius" and nearly all of them are perverted in one way or another. Again, see it for the babes, especially the Amanda Seyfried up-skirt scenes.
