There’s a shootout at the Guggenheim Museum in the middle of The International that’s about as cheery a spectacle as an action film can offer. One minute a cathedral hush prevails in Frank Lloyd Wright’s creamy architectural spiral, and visitors pace around gazing reverently at tiresome art installations. The next minute, blam-blam-blam-blam-blam, running, screaming, chaos, blood, and all that creamy whiteness is pocked with bullet holes. It’s immensely satisfying.
February 15th, 2009 | Comments (7)