Headhunters does not make very much sense, but it's a wonderful movie because it knows it. In a brilliant wink, the master detective charged with unraveling this hysterical narrative ultimately invents a story for the public in order to save his reputation. There's no solution here, only glorious bewilderment.
It's about Roger, a headhunter who steals art on the side. Before long, he steals a painting from a terrifying man who then chases after him for the rest of the movie. It's tense at times but not at all scary. the point is Roger's hilarious tribulations: a handsome, glamorous man rapidly gets to looking like a leprous martyr. And everybody betrays him. In the brief moments when things pick up for Roger the movie dips horribly—a sponge bath is a particular low point. The movie's singular fault is that someone actually loves Roger; Headhunters works only insofar as Roger is suffering horrendously. The movie's fast and dark and Roger kills someone by shooting them through the crotch of his pants.
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