(In theaters, October 2005) After Man On Fire, one could reasonably wonder if director Tony Scott had gone insane. This question is decisively settled with Domino, a garish experiment in cinema grammar that’s as glorious as it’s completely out of control. Nominally a story “sort of” adapted from the life of a real posh-chick turned bounty hunter, Domino quickly abandons any pretence at realism to dive boldly in the abyss of digital colour manipulation. Looped lines, tricky chronological structure, trippy visuals, incoherent over-editing and fancy subtitles are only a few of the tricks unleashed on what could have been a fairly enjoyable story. But everything here is drenched in saturated colours, brought to the limit of coherency by a director more interested in pushing the envelope than he is in delivering a good story. The result is a blast, but it’s as exhilarating as it’s disorienting: Few will have the stomach to last through a gratuitous Jerry Springer episode, a gruesome amputation and Tom Waits as a mystical desert stranger. Bad by most objective standards, but still fascinating in a ghastly kind of way. Much as I loathe to admit it, I’m really looking forward to Tony Scott’s next film.