…is good fun if you can distract yourself from the illogical bits by focusing on the wigs or gaping necklines of Amy Adams’ outfits.

It has the conceit of a gangster film—an aggression that’s thrown outward, one-liners and dialogue-heavy scenes, and plenty of slow motion shots. But it is essentially an intimate story about lost love and identity, and that’s what you remember it for. Without actually showing the dejection of 1970s’ New York, Russell tells us all about it—through his characters, and with hilarity and mock seriousness.