| Review:
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A bad parenting sex and drug addiction spree, The Informers
eavesdrops on the mostly trust fund patrician, perpetually
high lowlifes ferociously into doing the wrong thing on
a daily basis in 1980s LA, while enacting their orgies to
the music of the latest hot band, the Inform ers. Well,
actually one protagonist in this collection of decadent
vignettes does the right thing. But only after stuck in
pause for a week or so, as an accessory to child sex slave
racketeering and kidnapping. So much for socially redemptive
second thoughts in a movie.***
Based on the 1994 book by the movie's screenwriter
Bret Easton Ellis of American Psycho infamy, The Informers
is ironically directed by Aussie filmmaker Gregor Jordan,
whose 2003 production Ned Kelly starred then emerging gifted
actor Heath Ledger, likewise tragically snuffed out by an
overload of drugs. The primarily in the buff naughty boobs
'n buns ensemble cast is mostly recognized by their copycat
retro-trendy 'stupid hair' and respective flashing butts,
rather than faces or personalities, while their equally
degenerate, sexually predatory parents switch sex partners
as frequently as underwear, when not making a play for their
offspring's chums.***
Jon Foster is Graham in The Informers, the bisexual
stoned out of his mind son of a sleazy Hollywood producer
William Sloan (Billy Bob Thornton), who is in the process
of dumping his furious TV newscaster girlfriend (Winona
Ryder), while Sloan's pill popping estranged spouse (Kim
Basinger) is simultaneously re-dumping her frequently recycled
kid stud lover. This, so Mom and Dad can get together again
to save money on legal bills. But the boy toy really doesn't
mind, as long as Mrs. Sloan pops for a couple of Billy Idol
tickets.***
Meanwhile, a flavor of the month rock=2 0star abuses
his succession of orgy mates, while in a seedier side of
town, Mickey Rourke switches it up from The Wrestler to
The Hassler, sexually preying on stoner jail bait. And while
media reports are increasingly surfacing about a scary new
disease that's like 'a contagious form of cancer,' the head
nymphmaniac in town who's sleeping with nearly everyone,
succumbs to the unidentified bug we now know as AIDS, as
her sole obsessed lover in the libidinous pack deserts her
when she's not sexy anymore.***
As much as The Informers may come off sounding like
an unmitigated downer, there's a certain perverse fascination
that swirls around this accident-prone pampered tribe with
too much money, credited in good measure to the sharply
etched performances. Though the astute observation put forth
by one flustered character, that 'you can't make it in this
town unless you're willing to do really awful things,' does
make one wonder if these prominent stars are closet gluttons
for punishment by signing on to this movie in the first
place.***
There's also a bit of humorous insight into the kinky
when not kooky Hollywood product turning up on screens around
the country, if the tinsel town players are as zonked out
on controlled substances as this movie contends they are.
Including scripts floating around throughout this story
touching on talking cars, giant killer tomatoes, and rock
stars in outer space.***
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