'Full Frontal': hardcore pique

Director Steven Soderbergh (Ocean's 11, Erin Brockovich, Traffic) throws modern filmmaking right out the door, out the window, tossing the sink and the whole kitchen, too. Full Frontal was shot in 18 days and appears like amateur work with handheld 35mm and digital video cameras, but the multi-story string of pearls and eventual rendezvous of the entire cast fills the grainy screen with emotional and comedic fluidity, transforming it into a vivid tale of L.A. life.

Full Frontal is a 24-hour slice of everyday madness, one pinprick of the night sky enlarged by the Hubble and projected on the silver screen. There's a masseuse with an Internet love-interest; a small stage director who battles his obnoxious Nazi lead in The Sound and the Fuhrer; an unfaithful executive harboring sentiments of separation with her insecure and sexually intimidated husband; and two rising movie stars acting on and off camera -- Soderbergh's setup is one long joke about showbiz.

The dialogue is unpredictable and wild; it jumps like spontaneous prose while remaining intact with its thematic axis. The acting is flawless and dynamic. No star stands out above the rest, and the entire ensemble hangs together in tension like a suspension bridge. Everybody becomes undone, unraveling on camera, totally disarmed and transparent, all at once convincing and provocative in their simple reality.

At first, Full Frontal looks like a rough sketch, but with a wider glance, it jumps like a 20-foot mural on a wall of modern art. It is an amalgam of technique and display that stands at the opposite end of formulaic film, shining in original brilliance.