The plot, based on an idea by Bono, is Wenders' worst yet: a shaggy dog
story about losers living in a run-down LA hotel. It's all the more
frustrating because in moments without dialogue, Wenders shows he's
still capable of a graceful beauty, mixing fluid images with a
haunting, trumpet-led soundtrack. But his fans will find this an
infuriatingly insubstantial offering, and a disappointment after
the return-to-form that was Buena Vista Social Club. Everyone else is
well advised not to find it at all.
