Salma Hayek was meant to portray her harsh, explosive, yet sensitive waitress, while Colin Farrell gives his frequently arrogant writer Arturo Bandini a lot of humanity.
Apart from that, Robert Towne’s adaptation of John Fante’s book is attractive, but it lacks the high-tension cinematic touch and sense for human behaviour that Mr Towne’s master Roman Polanski might have given to this storey of minority group romance.
Towne, although having two of the most sexually vibrant performers in the industry, falls well short of the charge they might have delivered. He also can’t come up with a visual accompaniment to the poetry of Fante’s words, which is read over the soundtrack.
The picture becomes warm milk without the sting of genuine sex and real blood in its primary relationship. The ending has a touch of beautiful sadness about it.
