Southland Tales


Some fine moments amid the mess

Upon its 2006 release, Richard Kelly’s mockalyptic LA story received such an asskicking you could be forgiven for assuming the director had personally assaulted most of the critics’ grandmothers.

He hadn’t but, even so, a good part of the vehemence was justified – it’s such a sprawling, baffling mess that there’s no way a basic synopsis will even fit into this review.

But there’s a but: for all the incoherence, there are images and moments which lodge long in the memory.

How can you hate a film with the line, “I’m a pimp, and pimps don’t commit suicide?” Delivered by The Rock?

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