Even the poster repaets the circular codes of fabulous set pieces in the film

How could you not love a film featuring an elegant hit man who drifts through Madrid with a really beautiful carry-on bag while wearing the sharpest of sharkskin suits. He hides out in a Peter Saville wet dream of a circular crash pad, (complete with a padded leather staircase rails and circular bed)…Said hitman practices tai chi , compulsively orders "two espressos in separate cups", haunts the halls of art galleries staring at the paintings and declines to shag Paz de la Hurta as he never has sex while he is working. True, if you're looking for a traditional narrative complete with manufactured suspense and a big-bang pay-off this is not the film for you. But if you want to watch a film about movies, the pleasures of looking and the patience required to truly see then this is going to be a beautiful visual experience . You know how when you visit a foreign city and then you look back at the pictures you snap you wonder where the weight of light as it fell on your iris went? Well "The Limits Of Control" is so brilliantly photographed it feels like cinematographer Christopher Doyle does manage to capture that weight of light that gives meaning to a place in time.

the movie is super boring horseshit

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