Brian DePalma's "Passion" is perhaps the most self-indulgent movie of the year; by it's very existence it's possible you'll really hate it. You see, "Passion" is the eclectic director's homage to himself, and as bizarre as that may sound, it's also a film that asks it's audience to have experienced a large part of it's helmer's filmography (particularly his Hitchcockian thrillers "Dressed to Kill," "Sisters," "Carrie," "Femme Fatale," and the like) in order to get the most out of it. This sounds like a lot of baggage for a movie of a little more than an hour and a half... and that may be the case, but it's also a stylish throwback, a fun one, and I really enjoyed it. Informed viewers might agree. At it's core, "Passion" is a thriller concerning a conniving game of cat and mouse between an ad executive (Rachel McAdams) and her up-and-coming subordinate played by Noomi Rapace; both actresses really solid here. Plot and characters are secondary though, as DePalma employs all the gimmicks that made him a master of the macabre in the first place. We witness elaborate camera work, an elegantly prolonged split-screen sequence, habituated, left-field sensuality, an over-the-top Pino Donaggio score, an orchestrated timeline that lies to us; in a movie that's not above manipulation. So yes, "Passion" is a greatest hits of DePalma's usual quirks and obsessions. I liked the results. Any fan of it's creator should too. If not, well... you can't say it's boring!