This moon is a typical three-con buddy road trip film, pocked with 200-dollah craters, loud ladies with bouncy breasts and good bone structuh, and the not-so-black-and-white Great Depression. Still, there’s enough room on this satellite for a blond girl in coveralls to open her mother’s old cigar box and douse her neck in perfume, for her to try on her mother’s kimono and believe that the con man at her mother’s funeral looks enough like her to be her father or at least the getaway driver sitting in the curve of a paper moon, driving off into the sky.
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