Detour ★★★★★

Glauber Rocha has nothing on Edgar G. Ulmer’s aesthetics of hunger. This threadbare bondage-noir masterpiece grinds Double Indemnity into powdered milk, moving from one magnificently decomposing shot to another until its roads and rooms become the stuff of nightmares. "Fate, or some mysterious force, can put the finger on you or me for no good reason at all." "Your philosophy stinks, pal!" A genuinely haunted film, a whirlpool in a shoebox, a trance.