From The New York Times' review of London Fields by Jeannette Catoulis
"'There was no book without the girl,' Samson intones as his mysteriously mourning muse, Nicola Six (Amber Heard), appears in black veil and a cloud of pheromones. The year is 1999 and some kind of worldwide catastrophe is unfolding, but Nicola’s main problems seem to be a lack of outerwear and the ability to foresee her own murder. Whether her lover-cum-killer will be the besotted banker (Theo James), the cretinous criminal (an odiously mouth-breathing Jim Sturgess), or Samson himself is a riddle we could not possibly be less interested in solving.
The arrival of Johnny Depp as a ludicrously dressed gangster with an entourage of weirdos does nothing to reverse that position. (It does, however, signal that the movie’s costume designer was having much more fun than any of its stars.) Failing to even glancingly approximate the book’s trippy energy or linguistic dazzle, Cullen ricochets between Heard’s slow-motion, perfume-ad close-ups and lurid, comic-book noir. The result is alienating and bogus, as senseless as the image of Nicola’s floating, diaphanous panties." --Jeannette Catsoulis
The arrival of Johnny Depp as a ludicrously dressed gangster with an entourage of weirdos does nothing to reverse that position. (It does, however, signal that the movie’s costume designer was having much more fun than any of its stars.) Failing to even glancingly approximate the book’s trippy energy or linguistic dazzle, Cullen ricochets between Heard’s slow-motion, perfume-ad close-ups and lurid, comic-book noir. The result is alienating and bogus, as senseless as the image of Nicola’s floating, diaphanous panties." --Jeannette Catsoulis
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