The Canyons

Bret Easton Ellis's screenplay is filled with the worst kind of tin-eared dialogue and situations that seldom rise above their soapish base instincts, and in the third act, he clearly just gives up and turns one of his characters into Patrick Bateman.

With the pungent combination of a script from novelist Bret Easton Ellis, a performance by Lindsay Lohan and direction by Paul Schrader, The Canyons might have been a micro-budget sensation, but sadly it reeks of laziness.

Merely confirms Schrader as an all-but spent force (it's been largely downhill since the dismal Dominion) and nails Bret Easton Ellis as a one-trick pony.

Although the movie is flawed, [Lohan's] pretty terrific ...

The Canyons deserves a look.

Lindsay Lohan lights up the screen as a fallen starlet in Paul Schrader's much-maligned noir quickie.

[It] signals prophetic visions of breakdown — in empathetic corporeality, in cinema genre legacies, and in the capitalist American psyche.

There are some compelling ideas here, they just get too often washed out in the muck of navel-gazing nothingness and a truly abominable performance from Deen.

Flat and imbecilic, The Canyons is a chore in every sense

While Deen may very well grow into a genuine actor, he's not there yet.