No one at all seems to have directed Tim Roth who, as the bellhop linking the segments, tries to do a Jerry Lewis and ends up with a twitching, mugging, achingly unfunny performance that he will come to regard as an embarrassment.

The results are mainly awful, and even Roth got saddled with a mannered part that he can't comfortably play.

Four of the hottest indie directors--Anders, Rockwell, Tarantino, and Rodrigues--miss a unique opportunity to display their idiosyncratic talents resulting in a tedious anthology in which 2 segments are inept, one barely decent, and one OK (guess whose)

It's questionable which got the worst of the bargain. In any case, this is one of the more interesting disasters of the waning film year.