The most likely question any member of the audience misguided enough to watch "The Informers" is likely to have is, "Am I meant to take this seriously?" Between the globbed-on hair gel, pointless plot, disconnected acting and copious amounts of random sex, the most likely answer is a resounding "no." One would hope director Gregor Jordan actually intended for viewers to leave the theater with a headache and the knowledge that early '80s Los Angeles was full of omni-sexual, drug-fueled mannequins attempting to pass for really shoddy impersonations of human beings.
"The Informers" is nominally about the interconnected lives of L.A.'s super rich, super aimless and super drugged-up population with a rock star, a criminal and a TV anchor thrown in for good measure. What exactly these characters are trying to do or what Jordan is trying to prove never comes to the fore; the film mostly just middles in pointless inanity with the occasional orgy and supposedly emotional catharsis that never goes anywhere.
A scene in which a character isn't drunk, naked, toked out of his mind or just out of sync with reality occurs sparsely, if ever. You can't possibly relate to or understand the characters unless you've partaken of Freudian levels of sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. Even if the sex scenes are meant to be nothing more than fan service, they are a shoddy attempt at porn: more disgusting and weird than sensual. Perhaps the film is just Jordan's expression of his sexual fantasies, a catharsis in response to what must be a monstrous therapy bill.
The film is not contemplative of larger American society and says nothing about the larger universe - it just goes through the paces of a circular plot with bad hair and worse clothes. The dialogue and editing is such that the likes of Billy Bob Thornton, Winona Ryder and Mickey Rourke could do nothing but go through the paces of being drugged up, depressed, impossibly sexual or just insane.
It is hard to express just how pointless and bad "The Informers" is. Suffice it to say it is 90 minutes that you will never get back, a black pit that sucks out all the energy, intrigue and drama, even all the curiosity that the audience members have. If they have any energy left at all once it's over, they'll quietly walk out of the theater and make a mental note never to think about, let alone focus any energy or money on, "The Informers" ever again.
You can reach this writer at thescene@theeagleonline.com.
