The emotionlessly played big city fairy tale The Saint of the Impossible does not convince ★★☆☆☆

They feel invisible, the Peruvian twins Paul and Tito, in this remarkably mediocre film adaptation of Arnon Grunbergs Saint Antonio, the Book Week gift of 1998. Lost in New York, a city that is too big, too impersonal and too harsh for the boys who once illegally crossed the American border with their mother. Is it their origin? Their job as a meal deliverer? Their virginity perhaps? Their mother’s new flame that makes even she see them less?

They brood drowsy, via distant literary voice-overs or full-sentence dialogues. The entrance of the beautiful Croatian Kristen into their English language class turns their lives upside down: the forward-looking opening scene points to a tumultuous ending. But in this overcrowded, often emotionlessly played urban fairy tale, this common thread is not convincing either. If you can’t contain your curiosity, at least finish the film. You will be rewarded with a cameo from Grunberg, in which the writer takes a selfie with a llama.