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By Merle Bertrand | February 13, 2001

I can tell you what director David Brooks’ “Member” mostly consists of. A decidedly angry young man (Josh Hartnett) drives around a number of city streets, ranting almost incoherently throughout this entire film. Every now and then, he seems to go off on a schpiele about insurance fraud, intercut with some highly stylized collision footage. Truth be told, however, whatever deep truth Brooks was trying to get at flew right over my head like a low-flying bird dodging a convertible.
“Member” looks pretty hot, relying as it does on tons of flashy and elaborate post effects. These effects, along with the ultra-choppy editing, the driver’s bitter tirades, and the driving and percussive soundtrack, give the effect that he’s cruising through the wired streets of a cyberpunk novel. They also give the viewer a splitting headache.
Many of those same cyberpunk books that this flashy but confusing film resembles are also long on style and short on substance. Clearly, “Member” aspires to be a member of this club.

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