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The characters are shockingly devoid of merit, especially for a drama in these "enlightened" times. Film noir has always highlighted the femme fatale. However these women have little to do other than display their physical attributes. The narrative unrepentantly parades Jessica Alba, Eva Green Jaime King, and Juno Temple through the production like skewered selections by waiters at a Brazilian BBQ. Women are either prostitutes, strippers, or evil temptresses. At least one gets to be a good luck charm. Rosario Dawson literally wears what looks like metal saucepan lids over her breasts in one scene. Jamie Chung doesn't even get to speak. Oh but she displays her knife wielding skills. Can I re-emphasize the violence? The unending obliteration of human beings is gruesome. It's like watching a chef at Benihana chop up various meats and vegetables for 102 minutes and then calling it a drama. The men aren't any more carefully drawn either. Their lack of humanity is disheartening. These guys are rotten to the core. Joseph Gordon-Levitt's character is just a body to destroy. He serves no purpose. For the first 10 minutes, I marveled at the visual style. It's remarkable, but soon after the ugliness beneath the production seeps through and overstays its welcome fast.
Frank is a black comedy with a dark undercurrent. How dark? Well someone who has committed suicide by hanging himself from tree is presented as a visual joke. In another instance a man is suddenly hit by a car in a sonic surprise that virtually slaps the audience with a punctuated jolt. Frank is definitely an odd little film with a sensibility that will charm some and irk others. There are some amusing moments. Frank's attempt at his most likable pop song is something called "Coca Cola, Lipstick, Ringo." In the words of screenwriter Jon Ronson, it would be the result "if someone with manic depression tried to write a Katy Perry song." The final ditty "I Love You All" is strangely affecting as well. Unfortunately those occurrences are few and far between. Most of the picture isn't that funny or even particularly memorable. Frank isn't a bad movie. There are some touching episodes amidst the bleak humor, but I'll liken its appeal to food. Frank is a heaping plate of fava beans. There's nothing wrong with fava beans. I just wouldn't call myself a fan. I'll take a plate of broccoli instead.