There's a scene where Martin Donovan is at a video store and rents an Elina Löwensohn-starring porno called Gang Rape while My Bloody Valentine's "Only Shallow" hums in the background. Hartley was operating on some other level here.
The last scene crushed me this time around and I don't know why.
One of those movies I probably love more than anyone else I know. And it's despite those flaws—choppy editing, clunky exposition, bad ADR—that flare up in the third act. Subsequent viewings have softened these somewhat; the first hour is still one of the most spellbindingly atmospheric pieces of filmmaking out there IMHO. Cat Power's "Rockets" dropping into a rollercoaster ride in the opening credits gets me every time. Also had a teenage crush on Alison Elliott so yeah...
Under normal circumstances, Unhinged would qualify as an unmitigated write-off. It’s a generic, gutter counter-programmer whose main draw is watching a former Oscar winner slumming so hard you can soak up the greasy desperation behind every hammy Welles-ian tic.
But timing is everything—and this film gains a smidgen of perverse novelty by being one of the first (and few notable) theatrical releases available in a post-lockdown, tentpole-bereft environment. Here’s us thirsting for the escapist, high-concept wonders of Tenet, but being…
