"I think I must be doing something horribly wrong," says the thirtysomething Nora Wider (Parker Posey) as her latest fling declares his love for another woman on live television. What could it be? She's pretty, she's unthreatening, she dresses well... But yes, as Zoe Cassavetes' feature debut turgidly unfolds through the next hour or so, it transpires that she is doing something wrong: she is neurotic, in a way that, though the script attempts to pull the heartstrings ("Even I can't stand the smell of my own desperation," she mumbles, sotto voce), completely lacks psychological truth. Any initial sympathy dissolves as she determinedly spurns the fabulously attractive, extremely forbearing Parisian, Julien (Melvil Poupaud), while her cold shoulder, her freak-outs, her tranquilizer-popping panic-attacks and her indecisiveness make his interest incomprehensible. Even if you can suspend your disbelief, indie darling Posey's shaky, twitchy performance will leave you wriggling in your chair and possibly throwing your popcorn at the screen. Pull yourself together, woman. Artily filmed, modishly scored and made by the child of Hollywood royalty this may be, but it is no Lost in Translation.