Laying aside the fact that this was one of those really annoying DVDs that insist on making you watch a load of trailers before the film, this was pretty piss poor as a film anyway.

Watch Joaquin Phoenix lumbering around in semi-catatonic state. Attempt to catch the few scraps of mumbled dialogue that occur. Struggle to make sense of of the story when there pretty much isn't one. Struggle to concentrate against the mess of tuneless music dominating the soundtrack. Puzzle as to what the almost subliminal flashbacks mean - presumably attempting to show us that this despicable man living a despicable life in a despicable unnamed american city has some kind of soul and ancient traumas that explain it all. Marvel that he loves his mother - as if that wasn't one of the oldest cliches in the book; the killer with a heart of gold so we forgive him [...not].

Many film makers have foundered on the rocks of attempting to create a convincing film-noir, very few have succeeded - and Lynne Ramsay certainly hasn't here. Perhaps part of the problem is that the original film-noirs themselves were actually a bit of a mess - but they were fresh and different so seemed special at the time even as we failed to grasp why the Maltese Falcon was taking a Big Sleep. But this is much worse than that. There are no thrills, there is no puzzle, there is not even any particularly shocking violence or tenderness. We fail to identify with the lead character - and there are no other characters.  - Mercifully it is only 90 mins long - but that is still 90 minutes you will never get back. Avoid this waste of time.