A Tarantino-esque clusterfuck of a movie, constantly wrong-footing the viewer with its unpredictable turns of events. Noir remains its core, but this is a very smart piece of modern pulp, always offsetting its torrid transgressiveness with a deep streak of black humour. The credits’ classically curlicued calligraphy (with the faux-formal addition of the definite article to designations like ‘producer’ and ‘director’), the dry, estranging narration, and the slyly extravagant orchestral score from Ryan Franks and Scott Nickoley, license the viewer never to take all the bludgeoning, bloody outrage and exploitation on screen too seriously, but instead just to enjoy the wild, rollicking ride, while savouring cinematographer John Bourbonais’ exquisite framing and editor Lionel Footstander’s fluid intercutting of scenes.” – ProjectedFigures