I liked this much more than I expected to. The script was one-dimensional, but the elegant combination of George Hickenlooper’s energetic direction and Sienna Miller’s vivid performance, achieved a voluble sensation of what it’s like to live the high life and suddenly find there’s no ground beneath your feet. I even dug Hayden Christensen’s Bob Dylan, Christensen deftly describing a man whose dedication to a certain emotional authenticity is both a breath of fresh air to the heroine and audience, but also makes it clear that such a dedication makes him the wrong guy to give her a soft landing. His confrontation with Guy Pearce’s Andy Warhol captured a genuine sense of two completely opposed gravitational forces colliding and recoiling, with our heroine crushed in between. Miller’s inhabitation of a waif with a bright smile that becomes ever more forced was a brilliant change from the usually more showy portraits of glam-fem self-destructiveness.
