Armed with little more than a knife and two handles of vodka, an near-suicidal Hollywood director sets out to the Mojave Desert, where he finds his doppelganger-like antagonist, a homicidal drifter.
The screenwriter of The Departed aims for a statement about the perils of fame, but instead comes off as the poster boy for toxic celebrity narcissism.
There is something kind of funny about these two bro-styled men arguing about the accuracy of a George Bernard Shaw quote while kicking the crap out of each other, but I'm not sure how much Monahan knows that, smart as he is.
A smudge on the writing record of William Monahan (The Departed), Mojave throws a Hollywood 'player' into the desert to meet the Devil with meandering and pointless results.
In his second directorial effort, "Mojave," Monahan has no ... map to follow, and he wanders in a land of sophomoric pretentiousness and banal profundities.
