An intriguing, well-wrought film that explores penetrating questions. But for all its strengths it never quite breaks the surface.
Nocturnal Animals, written and directed by Tom Ford, is essentially two separate films, with the better one folded inside the bad one.
A ridiculous, high-camp mess that could easily be mistaken for substance, if it weren't so irredeemably silly.
There's much to admire in "Nocturnal Animals," including Mr. Ford's ambition, but too often it feels like the work of an observant student.
Tom Ford hits it out of the park with a stunning film noir that resonates with ghostly, poetic terror. Don't overthink what Ford has so cunningly crafted. Surrender to it.
Boasts some gripping scenes and a few stabs at satire, but ultimately offers little beyond its assured sense of style.
Adapting his screenplay from Austin Wright's 1993 novel Tony and Susan, Ford interweaves influences and style obsessions with an exactitude bordering on malevolence.
It's a tale bluntly told that arouses intense, evanescent emotion and then leaves you haunted, long afterward, by provocative but arguably answerable questions.
Like Ford's debut, Nocturnal Animals treats film as a medium of luxury, where the emotive and the self-indulgent cross paths. He is primarily a sensualist.