by Sider Billings
Halfway through Parallelogram, it occurred to me that I could, in all probability, be watching a collection of unaired car commercials interweaved with highlights from "World’s Wildest Police Video’s". But unfortunately, I was still viewing a film that did more to estrange itself from any semblance of a narrative than thought artistically possible. The director’s colossal faux pas was evidently following a cinematic mantra that relied on violently confusing the audience and blinding them with a stream of unexplainable special effects. The experience of watching the movie is akin to being yelled at simultaneously by several dehydrated shopkeepers in a frenzied desert bazaar, hocking items you don’t understand.And then there’s Mr. Buscemi, whose character comes across as a patchwork quilt of Jack Bauer and Spencer Tracy, which apparently spent a bit too much time in the washing machine. His acting lacks humanity and presence to the degree that makes me wonder if he even knew he was being filmed. As he carves a non-Euclidean path from one drawn out action sequence to the next the editing and dialogue teeter off the edge of cliché into pure ignorance. You may feel a slight headache after leaving the theater, but make no mistake; the movie packs all the punch of a losing scratch off lottery ticket. The tagline says it best: nothing, is what is seems is inside Parallelogram after all.
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