Though the story that surrounds Ernest Foronda and Silas Howard's Sunset Stories is anything but original, a strong cast held things together just enough to save it from the fiery pits of cinema hell.
The film, which chronicles a high strung and meticulous nurse as she returns to Los Angeles to retrieve a bone marrow transplant, lacks both excitement and believability. The job is meant to be a simple, almost mundane chore. But May finds a way to complicate matters when she leaves the cooler by the hotel bar and is thus sent on a wild LA goose chase with her ex-boyfriend to locate the missing cargo.
Intermixed within the less than stellar detective plotline is a re-hatched romance segment that left much to be desired. May and her ex, who didn't leave things on good (or even mutual) terms, are forced to handle their differences and discuss the events that led to May's move. The exchanges are awkward and unnecessary"”almost as much as the scene where we find out who has taken May's place in her ex's life.
At the end of the day, the Los Angeles adventure has its rare moments of decency but ultimately lacks the cohesive structure that allows it to fully reach its potential. The story is a bit ridiculous and the characters are never fully developed; it almost appears as if the film's story is attempting to incorporate all possible emotions as it flies through its characters and their rushed backstories. In a way, that is the way the film felt to me, rushed and underperformed.
