Fault Lines

Sitting somewhere between the opening of Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia (an ageing, foul-mouthed couple argue and a shotgun is deployed) and Notes On A Scandal (dour, moody Englishness with a threat of violence), Fault Lines never matches up to either.

Still, for much of its 90 (or so) second running time, it's diverting enough. It's just hard to know where the focus is. There's a lot going on here; bloody chicken feathers, alcohol, an argument, silence and a gun all play their part. But all are jostling for attention in a piece that is in desperate need of some breathing space.