The Invisibles Movie Review

Most readers know Portia de Rossi as that cute blonde from Ally McBeal, but with more and more of her early work hitting video, she's rapidly becoming known as the star of many very, very bad independent films.

It's only been three years since de Rossi made The Invisibles, in which a rock star (Michael A. Goorjian) and a vapid model (de Rossi) hole up for a private detox session in her Paris apartment. (The film is in English, mind you.) Along the way, they order a pizza, have sex, and talk a lot. A whole lot -- in much the pedantic and conceited fashion of indie movie stars to which we've become accustomed in movies like Before Sunrise which are not really about anything.

The Invisibles, it's worth noting, barely deals with drug addiction at all. Even the lame Permanent Midnight put a frightening face on heroin. And of course there's Trainspotting, which The Invisibles wishes it could emulate.

The cast is a bit problematic. Goorjian doesn't really look or act like a rock star, and de Rossi sure as hell doesn't look like a model here. Though she's skin and bones and little else, her jet-black eyebrows are so thick they look like two caterpillars crawling across her face. It's actually hard to concentrate on anything else.

With trite dialogue, jerky editing, dull acting, and ill-advised flashbacks and narration to the camera, you'll be be left merely dreaming of an overdose. (That said, de Rossi's staring contest with a Honey Bear is utterly believable.)

Shot on black & white 16mm (I think).