INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS’ rich central figure feels like he’s lost in a sea of phonies. If only the movie didn’t feel that way too.

Its boat too often rides along the current, borne safely into mediocrity.

Addictions are time-consuming disorders. There’s the time spent finding the object(s) of your addiction, the time spent actually engaging in them, the time spent dealing with the highs and lows, and the time required to cover up and compensate for all of those activities in your straight life. Of course, life in general can be hard enough to keep everything balanced; add in an addiction, and there’s that many more balls to keep in the air. Steve McQueen’s new film, Shame, shows what happens when they all come crashing down.

You know this story and its elements by heart. A basically good-hearted hero with a dark side. A woman in trouble. A femme fatale. Powerful forces of evil conspiring to drag our hero to his demise. Quiet, atmospheric contemplation. Fast cars and city lights. Nicolas Winding Refn’s Drive is a 50s noir, filtered through a 70s existential thriller, all dressed up as a neon-bathed, synthesizer-scored 80s L.A. action flick. Yet no matter how well versed you are in its influences, you’ve never seen a movie quite like this before.