Gianfranco Rosi directs one shrouded man in a hotel room telling his life story as a policeman assassin for a Mexican drugs cartel.
99% of this is just a man with a veil over his face, sitting in a motel room where he once killed another man, scribbling numbers and crude diagrams into a notebook with a Sharpie. He loves drawing cars. An insight into the callous economics of the other side of the war on drugs. Yet his escape from a life as a murderer and a torturer doesn’t ring true and by that development you’ve already been watching this faceless monster waffle on and sketch repetitive floorplans for over an hour. Sometimes no frills means no thrills.
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