Interior. Leather Bar


Stupid, pointless, err, ‘wanky’…Interior. Leather Bar could have been all these things but is (almost) none, providing, against all odds, satisfying intellectual purpose for everything it does, and even, surprisingly and playfully, mixes in meta-fictional elements to much better effect than Franco’s other 2013 po-mo project, This is the End.




Homefront, boasting the unlikely face-off Statham vs. Franco, should have been the guilty pleasure of the year, but instead it’s a disappointingly po-faced thriller, derivative of several current TV shows, and neutered by the seemingly endless procession of villains, each one deferring to the next, until finally not much happens.



Lovelace at times zips along too quickly and wraps up too suddenly, but the Rashomon-style rewinding of events offers a considered, sensitive and often brutal perspective on the circumstances surrounding the eponymous porn star’s defining talent, and the roll call of famous faces filling out peripheral roles is consistently fun.