Hartley’s films are like glimpses of a parallel universe. The colours
are brighter. The people are weirder. And things which should be deadly
serious are bizarrely entertaining. His universe is peopled with
criminals and nuns, pornographers and poets. As in many American indie
movies, they spend their time delivering stylised, deadpan dialogue,
punctuated by outbursts of sudden violence. But his best films - like
Amateur - use this style to tell stories about people seeking knowledge
of themselves and each other, trying to communicate and maybe even
change, building relationships of trust in an uncertain world. Maybe
that parallel universe is our own after all.
