"The Little Death" is probably the most forgettable film of all time, but in Belgium the title occasionally rings a bell because the movie was directed by Jan Verheyen. Verheyen is a commercial journeyman that basically does about anything for a quick buck, but he does so in such an honest, almost shameless way that you have to respect his perseverance. As a business man he's a genius, but as a filmmaker he completely lacks the skill to pull of this Hollywood project he somehow talked himself into. "The Little Death" is written, directed and photographed like a made for TV-movie, it's a curious collage of weird scene transitions, unerotic sex scenes, predictable twists and nonsensical dialogues topped off with a real "huh?" of an ending. It's tough to find things in "The Little Death" that you can enjoy non-ironically, but I guess it can be appreciated if you think of those trashy novels you can buy at supermarkets. There's no merit to them, they were probably slapped together in a weekend, but they still have a certain appeal you can't put your finger on. It's the sleaze of it all I guess, throughout this movie you constantly have the sound of a wah-wah pedal in your head. The appeal doesn't make the movie any good, but I can't hate a movie that I sat through so easily.
Review of The Little Death
