It is a shame that a pristinely photographed neo-noir picture like Picture Claire fails to enliven any interest. Here is a film with oodles of atmosphere and a mute performance by Juliette Lewis (herself a staple of neo-noir) and nothing else to offer. Ponderous pacing, cliched characters and the most remote plot thread of them all, it is the kind of film that gives neo-noir pictures a bad name.
Juliette Lewis plays a French-speaking woman named Claire who arrives in Toronto, Canada to see a photographer she met in a bar.
She finds his address, breaks into his house, discovers pictures of herself and, alas, also sees that he is dating a different woman. Then we find her at his gallery showing where a huge black-and-white picture is framed, taken while she was asleep. Oh, but let's not forget that Claire was at a donut shop trying to find out where this photographer's gallery was located.
PHOTO COURTESY OF HWA JAAN
She accidentally spills her coffee all over herself, blames it on a paying customer named Eddie (Mickey Rourke), leaves in great haste until a murder takes place in the shop. It turns out that Eddie is some sort of low-level gangster/mobster/whatever who has a meeting with Lily (Gina Gershon), who has just brought a shipment of precious diamonds from abroad. Since Gershon plays a femme fatale-of-sorts, she kills Eddie in the first ten minutes of the movie. She splits until it seems that Claire could be blamed for the murder. Or so we think.
The rest of the picture focuses on Claire destroying her portrait at the gallery, spying on the photographer with his new girlfriend, and desperately trying to get back to her home in Montreal (a home, which I might add, is burned to a crisp before the opening credits).
There is a good set-up for Picture Claire but it goes nowhere fast. Juliette Lewis is always an amazingly powerful presence on screen and frankly, a movie where she mostly speaks French for only one-third of the picture is not a bad thing. It's just that director Bruce McDonald seems to have gotten lost in whatever story exists (reportedly the picture was taken away from his hands and extensively recut).
Gina Gershon seems to be treading on the innocent bad-girl schtick she first played in films as early as 1988's Red Heat -- she has matured since then and I am surprised by her one-note take on Lily. The photographer whom Claire has such an interest on is merely a pretty boy for young girls to ogle at -- he seems to have stepped out of the latest issue of GQ. Same goes for the cardboard villains who kill anything in their path. At the very least, Mickey Rourke can be counted on for a performance of some dignity -- a shame he disappears so soon.
Picture Claire offers plenty to see in visual terms, and the editing (involving split-screens and multi-screens) is quite an eyeful. But all this is in the service of a story that is threadbare and mediocre at best. The movie initially seems to coast on the idea that Lily and Claire are two halves of the same person (especially considering the title or maybe it is just me). At least that is what is insinuated, but I think the whole movie is an asinine insinuation.
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