Metacritic reviews

Vincent N Roxxy, which suffers from many of the same shortcomings that plagued tough-talking Tarantino homages in the late ’90s but distinguishes itself with a satisfying climax.

The cast members remain dedicated to their brooding roles as the script admirably reaches for emotions it only sometimes captures.

By the end, the point-blank murders might make you queasy, but Kravitz still manages to project composure, even when her face is covered in blood. All through, she’s battered but defiant.

Genre clichés catch up with Schultz just as surely as the past catches up with his characters and the sweet, redemptive possibilities of their relationship gets washed away in the tide of gratuitous bloodshed.

There’s an absence of character details that could make the central romance of Vincent N Roxxy more believable. Luckily for the film, the palpable chemistry between Hirsch and Kravitz imbues the relationship with realism, even if we don’t have much else to go on.

There’s not much room for performance in all this. Cohen does that acting school rendition of small-town-punk thing, Hirsch tries to simmer and Kravitz brings a little heat and paranoia to Roxxy.

Its gory conclusion is presented with an ostentatious grandiosity that the rest of the film simply doesn’t justify.

Vincent N Roxxy is a nasty little piece of B-movie trash that lacks both the verve to grab you as a guilty pleasure and the artistry to be taken seriously as a dramatic thriller.