The informers is a period drama, or at least it’s fashioned as one, that is supposed to be a film on pointlessness of the hedonism and moral bankruptcy of the opulent America. Instead it ended up being the epitome of absurdity as it was intended to expose. And all it’s left with is the nudity of Amber Heard, a lots of major loop-holes in the screenplay and obviously the cynical tinge of the Bret Easton Ellis novel on which the film is based.
Had I read the novel by Ellis I would have been able to compare how colossal the waste was, since I can certainly conjecture that the novel would had have much more depth and finesse. But rather I would try not to waste any more words on a film that took Winona Ryder, Mickey Rourke, Kim Basinger and Billy Bob Thronton, anyone of whom can single-handedly render a film epic and did absolutely nothing with them. That, ladies and gentlemen, demands applaud.