This is, without a doubt, one of Brian De Palma’s greatest achievements, an incredibly rich and playful movie which immeasurably rewards repeat viewings. Basically, you get out of it what you put in; if you’ve got your wits about you, an open mind and a keen pair of eyes, you’re in for a treat. Beneath its ludicrous exterior there lurks as intelligent a film as you could wish to see, a film which, refreshingly, credits its audience with the ability to understand it without spoon-feeding. If you’ve been paying close enough attention, the controversial late twist triumphantly validates innumerable carefully laid glimpses of the truth; you ought to feel exhilarated rather than cheated, eager to hit the rewind button in search of further clues. In De Palma’s enchanted world: fish-tanks mimic overflowing baths, advertising posters offer vital pointers, casually seen faces become woven into the story and time stands still. As Parallel Universe thrillers go, Femme Fatale is smarter, wittier, more inventive and more skilfully told than Run, Lola, Run et al. Ironically, this masterpiece sank without a trace in the UK and is hard to locate on DVD but, trust me, it is well worth seeking out.