Amateur

Hal Hartley's movie - his most accessible and entertaining to date - starts with a man (Donovan) waking in a New York gutter, head bloodied, memory gone. Who is he? How did he get there? Was he a kindly soul, or a violent man linked to the Mob? Certainly for Isabelle (Huppert), an ex-nun and would-be pornographer, who lets him recuperate in her apartment, the latter seems to be true, particularly when a porn star (Löwensohn), a crazed accountant and two hitmen begin to intrude on their lives. A delightfully stylish and skewed picture of sex, violence and love in contemporary America, the film wears its more serious concerns (guilt, responsibility, exploitation, redemption) admirably lightly. Huppert is especially good, conjuring up a canny blend of hilarious melancholy and unexpected eroticism which, incidentally, provides the film-maker with his most poignant portrait yet of an ill-starred love affair. As ever, Hartley regulars do sterling service, while fine camerawork and plangent music add to the movie's more sensual pleasures. Enjoy.