There is a world of possible interpretation lurking beneath the surface of Frank Cottrell Boyce's script, which is as disorientating as the scenario the characters find themselves in.

A bizarre and downcast road flick best described as Thelma and Louise meets Natural Born Killers, only with a lot less flash and a lot more lesbianism.

There are moments in this film that are so searing, of such brutal honesty, that it becomes difficult to keep watching. Both leads absolutely bare (both literally and figuratively) themselves on screen, bravely, encompassing and embracing their fucked up characters. The film is structured like a killers-on-the-run road movie (Badlands, Kalifornia, Natural Born Killers) intercut with interview segments with one of the characters. The structure has its strengths and weaknesses, and the plot can be pedestrian at times, but it never betrays the characters. Michael Winterbottom has proven time and time again that he is a multi-talented director, and does an excelent job here, neither romanticizing what happens nor descending to the level of clinical study. The film is, first and foremost, empathic. I don't know who I would recommend this to, other than myself, as this is most definitely not an audience type film but independent art.