Luther at the Movies

Two questions, my Lutherans: (1) Is it my imagination, or is Robert Downey Jr. beginning to bear a striking resemblance to Al Pacino in his old age? (Downey's, not Pacino's.) He's even beginning to carry himself like the senior thespian. (2) And is Chlöe Sevigny capable of more than one facial expression, you know, one that isn't dour pout?

Imagine an above-average episode of Law & Order—that simply will not end and that has no closure. That is Zodiac, a film that goes on and on and on and on and on, trying to wear you down and break your spirit, just as the fruitless pursuit of the serial killer who terrorized California from the late 1960s into the 1970s, and who was never caught, wears out and breaks down all the police and the reporters who covered the case year after year, but who we're pretty sure it was that guy, you know that guy with the three names (but why do they always have three names?), but the handwriting evidence seemed to disprove the connection, but then, but then, there was that dead girl's sister's memory of the guy, and then the guy who survived the guy's attack who picked him out of a picture lineup—finally, I mean, after how many years?—but then the guy died—no the killer, or the guy they thought was the killer, not the other guy, the guy who survived the Zodiac's attack back in 1969 and who then disappeared—and then the DNA pointed away from that guy in 2002, so maybe it wasn't him, but everyone's pretty certain he was the guy OH JUST KILL ME NOW!

I'M THE ZODIAC! I'M THE ZODIAC! JUST MAKE IT STOP!

Brian Cox was mildly amusing as the late flamboyant mediahound lawyer Melvin Belli.

I give this film 65 theses.