A heinous crime tests the complex relationship between a tenacious personal assistant and her Hollywood starlet boss. As the assistant unravels the mystery, she must confront her own understanding of friendship, truth and celebrity.
Kirke, so wonderful in "Mistress America," and Cho, of the underappreciated "Columbus," are endlessly fascinating to watch, but the gossamer-thin material underserves them.
Although it has a modern visual style and a mise en scène more in tune with The Neon Demon and Mulholland Drive, Aaron Katz's very enjoyable Gemini is one of the most laid-back Los Angeles mystery films since Robert Altman's The Big Goodbye.
It's a variation on a formula laced with a hipster-ish vibe that keeps undercutting itself with bitterness and bemused dread: Forget it, Jake, it's Silverlake.
Although rife with wry nods to familiar tropes and meta-commentary on the making of mysteries, Gemini is not so much an ironic perversion of the genre as a woozy, Instagram-y evocation.
[Kirke] possesses an endearing, thoroughly non-actressy quality. She feels completely real and unrehearsed, like she's saying the lines for the first time.
It is among the emptiest movies I've ever seen, beginning with a production design filled with sets in roomy designer houses with no personality whatsoever (and that's probably the point).
