Plot abstract - brothers grow up with bad luck always looking for them; almost every imaginable thing that can go wrong does. But, they still have each other's back and their storytelling. From an acting, filming and creative storytelling pov it's a four or five but a couple of things moved it down the charts for me. First, no subtitles and for a film which is storytelling dependent that is a no-no. Not only difficult for any hard of hearing, etc. but the enunciations and unique dialogue were difficult to follow anyway. Second, the pacing and over redundancy of the main theme made watching really slooow. Perhaps intended to embellish the cold desolate mood which the director also provided with other filming techniques but it turned out to be too much. Like having the same meal repeatedly, it loses it's taste eventually.

Set in dreary Indie symbolic winter, "Motel Life" is a story of despair and unconditional love Frank (Emile Hirsch) has for his brother Jerry Lee (Stephen Dorff). After Jerry Lee accidentally kills a kid on a bicycle, Frank abets him in disposing of the evidence and moving on. The brothers and everyone they touch have lives of despair which are brightened by Frank's story telling.

When the film wasn't slow and boring, it was filled with despair. It was certainly well acted and well scripted, for what it was. However on the entertainment scale, it was one I could have missed; a good movie I didn't like.

The film won the audience award at the 2012 Rome Screen Fest as well as best screenplay among 17 films.

Parental Guidance: F-bomb, sex, nudity- much of it was cartoon.

It's hard to believe that Nevada -- desolate Nevada -- is one of the most urbanized states in the union. Aside from Las Vegas and Reno, there are the smaller towns of Elko, Sparks, and Winemucca. Nobody lives in between. Well, maybe tiny Tonopah where, one hundred years ago, I danced on the stage of the LDS church.

In this case we're dealing with two brothers, Hirsch and the older Dorff, who are involved in a hit-and-run accident in wintry and rain-slick Reno. Dorff is full of chagrin. Distracted, he shoots himself in the leg, promptly amputated at the hospital. Hirsch tends to his brother quietly but lovingly.

However, the cops are on their tails and Hirsch must hustle Dorff out of the hospital into an old beaten up car he's just bought by selling his Dad's priceless Winchester rifle, the one that's never been fired. I mention that rifle because it's a splendid-looking weapon, all engraved and glistening brass, kept in a velvet-lined case. And Hirsch sells it for four hundred dollars road money although the reluctant store owner advises him that he could get much more at a gun show or on the internet. These guys are down-and-outers. They have to scratch for every penny.

Their few friends include a guy recently released from a mental hospital who acts odd and at times manic. Then there is Kris Kristofferson as the Jungian archetype, the wise old man. He's full of advice like, "Always think you're great, or if not great, at least good, and then you can have everything." Well, what the hell. It's not Deepak Chopra but you'd pay fifty dollars an hour to hear the same thing from a shrink.

The pair make it in their old clunker to Elko, which is actually a scenic little town where only the people seem to mar the allure. Fortunately, one of the people is Dakota Fanning, now grown up, an old girl friend of one of the boys. She quite attractive too. She has very large blue eyes over which two very large lids droop. Her background is as hard scrabble as everyone else's, her mother a hooker.

There are some moving scenes of Hirsch caring for his bed-ridden brother in an Elko motel. That stump causes his a great deal of discomfort. He needs to be helped, very awkwardly, in and out of the shower, and Hirsch must dress what's left of his leg. In the movies, that's usually good enough, but here, as in real life, the caring brother is no doctor and has no antibiotics and the leg becomes infected and Hirsch takes Dorff to a hospital where he dies.

It's a gloomy picture. There's nothing funny about it. But the performances are uniformly good. Hirsch really has a passive role, but Dorff is convincing in showing us emotions like pain and fear. He looks a little like Dennis Quaid. And he comes across as a nice, affable kid who wishes no one any harm. The screenplay lets them down once in a while. In their last scene together, night time, in the kind of cheap motel room where you can still smell the disinfectant, Dorff tells Hirsch, "You're a good guy and I love you." We already know it.

There's something else I didn't quite get. Dorff draws a lot of picture in comic book style. And Hirsch tells him fantastic stories about BJs and cross-dressing pirate captains and desert islands. They take up quite a bit of screen time and they're illustrated in the style of an animated graphic novel. I don't get it.

Dakota Fanning isn't given much to do except blink once in a while, which practically sets the air around her in motion. Let's have no more girls named Dakota. I see that name everywhere these days. Kristofferson is appealing as the car salesman who dispenses stale recommendations. Thirty years ago, it would have been Ben Johnson, the actor, not the playwright.

One thing that keeps the film worthy of watching is the use of settings -- landscapes, weather, indoor locations. It's something that isn't often given much attention, yet has a great impact on our response to the story. And I don't mean just majestic mountains or grimy city streets, but something more personal and subtle. "Fargo" was another instance, as were "The Hustler", and "Desert Hearts" (Reno again),and "Atlantic City."

The story isn't exactly gripping but the performances and the bits of interaction are so well displayed that you'll probably stay interested.