Liverpool, Cannes, Directors' Fortnight

Painfully slow and inexplicably dull, Argentine filmmaker Lisandro Alonso's "Liverpool" could use something more from that bustling city than a keychain, which is the film's sole reference to it.

Stark and pedestrian to the point of inertia, the film's single accomplishment is in making the snowbound landscape of southernmost Argentina look like a place you'd never want to visit.

It's difficult to see "Liverpool" making any kind of dent at the home boxoffice let alone anywhere else. Alonso has his followers on the festival circuit but this may test even their patience.

With little or no information provided, the film follows a merchant seaman named Farrell (Juan Fernandez) as he goes ashore from a container ship to see if his mother is still alive. In one poorly executed scene after another, Farrell eats, smokes, visits a strip club and drinks copious amounts of vodka.

After an hour of this, he visits the logging camp where his mother lives to find that she is dying and doesn't recognize him. He also discovers an additional family member, a young woman named Analia (Giselle Irrazabal). "Right," he says. "I'm off," which is about as wordy as the picture gets.