Lulu on the Bridge

This wanbabe noir is frustrating due to the meandering nature of the pretentious, riddle-like script and lethargic, incompetent direction of Paul Auster in his solo directorial debut

Less spellbinding than it wants to be, losing its energy and occasionally its brains in long passages of surprisingly sentimental schmaltz.

Right up to the end, which was a lousy cheat ending, I was entranced by the story and the characters.

Whatever.

I just got the feeling Auster didn't know too much more about this mystery than the viewer did.

Auster's script asks us to suspend our disbelief far more than is reasonable.