The lyrical nature of B Noir or rather literary nature recompenses any filter or impediment from dry and lustless sentiment. Not to say there is no sex: there's more sex than most today. But the easy going dialogue and characterization will never indent anything. That's strange isn't it, how a lyrical (or literary) work can function without depth or psychological impact. That's almost what's lyrical, that its pulp fiction collates infinite fantasies with mush and often also photography and entertaining story design. I was thinking about this film's concept of 'upstate'—because there are no mountains and no Rockies-style western towns yet that's where the movie goes (for no real reason) out of a New York that could be any city and of a casually yet finely painted urban backdrop that clashes from sheer color into what almost feels like Alaska or "Siberia." Is that the lyricism? To put sex and violence (in pulp form) onto that transition? or is it the workman-like style and indifference, the slim and meager exploration of setting and description or energy to instead insert its own basic puerile cosmic energy that rushes to ultimatum. (I've been reading Faulkner).