Probably a work of genius

Kinostami back at it

Dunaway showcases a new kinda of acting altogether, a hybrid mixture of camp impersonation and full on demonic possession. Without it, the film ceases to exist. Slimy nostalgia tabloid told with outrageous bombast in an epic tale of what is essentially vignettes, a series of scenes so confusingly put together that any given cut could be anywhere between a split-second reaction shot to a "several years later" interval. Few films depend so much on their central performance, and it's one of the greatest I've ever seen.