The Counselor

The Counselor ★★★½

THE COUNSELOR was terrible, except when it was excellent. Often it was both at the same time.

The cast, with the exception of Cameron Diaz, was uniformly excellent. There were scintillating visual moments, courtesy of Ridley Scott's great eye, and fantastic monologues poured from Cormac McCarthy's pen. But in aggregate, the movie did nothing, said nothing, was nothing.

It failed as a thriller; I never knew what was at stake, or why I should care.

It failed as philosophy, as it was scattershot and contradictory. (Although the various monologues by Ganz, Pitt, Bardem, and Blades were all excellent and thoroughly enjoyable.)

It failed at being sexy, because as soon as it tried to titilate, it became ridiculous.

All this sound and fury signified nothing, in the end. And the end was perfect, really; Cameron Diaz proclaiming "I'm fomished" and fade to black. What the fuck just happened?

That could, and maybe should be my entire review: What the fuck just happened?

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