Trance: Stay Home & Soak Your Head in Molasses

All may be fair in love and war. But not at the movies.

There's such a thing as play fair. Which means that the viewer, even if she doesn't figure out what's going on, should know at the end that she could have assembled this puzzle.

Well, the Movie Slut doesn't think that's possible with Trance.

Maybe others are quicker, smarter, more observant, or have read reviews that spill and spin the story as press material reported it. To them, she says lots of luck.

Trance plays out like one of those 1950s films about hypnotism, crossed with a 1970s art heist flick and sprinkled with a heavy dose of David Mamet-style violence and sadism.

James McAvoy is superb as the guy who may or may not be suffering from amnesia and seeks the help of a gorgeous hypnotist, played by Rosario Dawson, who he may or may not have known when he still had memories, which he may or may not have lost.

The Movie Slut wonders if the flick might make sense if she saw it again. But does she really want to invest another 10 bucks and 100 minutes?

Check this out from Lawrence Toppman at the Charlotte Observer:
"Trance stumbles around like a blind rat in a maze with no cheese at any exit: Whatever conclusion it reaches will leave us dissatisfied."