Saint Cecilia of Spiralence

Film noir with minimal plot, delivered in obscuration and nothing but innuendo and suggestive sets. 1.17 minutes you will never get back to your life.

Intrigued by the stagey feel, I looked into the background. The writer / director / lead actor is known for translating his own stage performances to screen, and many of the cast have appeared in his previous films.

The script is excessively complicated. In one example, a woman agrees willingly to comply with what us asked of her, but there follows a conversation in which the person asking it almost talks her out if it, telling her what he plans to do if she refuses to do what she already agreed. The word 'arch' springs to mind, as heavy use of double-entendre and delicate euphemism slows the pace. What can be evocative or fun in small doses becomes tiresome with overuse.

Some of the dialogue is anachronistic - use if 'myself' instead of 'me' feels too modern, perhaps adopted from Australian soap operas, and interactions feel more like therapy sessions than conversations. Everyone has secrets, but nobody wants to protect their own secrecy.

The sets are limited, making it feel very claustrophobic, and the plot possibly worked better in the writer's head than on celluloid. Some characters are referred to by more than one name, which is only partly explained, and an MP seems to be disgraced and in favour simultaneously.

Despite the limitations, however, the story is surprisingly engaging. We almost sympathise with some characters, none of whom are entirely without charms.