Memento
A nasty little mindfuck of a movie about unpleasant people with problems they richly deserve, masked by a gimmick that gives you the impression that there's something to give a damn about--and in a movie filled with untruths, that's the meanest lie of them all.
Anyone who raves about the structure or the plot has most assuredly ducked to avoid being hit by the point. The mystery, the film noir, that's just the McGuffin. Don't bite. Besides, the bastard left some several hundred plot holes--if you walk out feeling comfortable with the resolution then rest assured you missed a whole bunch.
I suppose there are people who will find the revelation and the reality it uncovers to be A Great Truth and it may even be an interesting discussion to have, after I've run down this Nolan character and kicked his ass for pretensions above and beyond his ability to maintain.
Acting by the three leads is fine, but the truly remarkable performances are turned in by Stephen Tobolowski and Harriet Sansom Harris, as the only characters in the film worth caring about. (It can't be a coincidence that Tobolowski was in Groundhog Day).
And Pearce, he's a pretty lad, so the hours weren't entirely wasted.
This is definitely a minority opinion and a good chunk of my crankiness is due to the fact that I figured it out 20 minutes in and spent much of the movie cursing the critics who led me on.
