I was initially intrigued by Rodrigo Perez‘s review of Nathan Silver’s Thirst Street — “A wry and disturbed look at lust and longing…a terrific vintage homage…a deliciously arch little treat.” Set in Paris, it’s about an emotionally traumatized flight attendant (A Teacher‘s Lindsay Burdge), reeling from a fiance’s suicide, who has a one-night stand with a moustachioed French guy (Damien Bonnard). She falls obsessively, and from this a Polanski-like “European-flavored psychodrama” results. But look at Bonnard. He’s almost Quasimodo. Who obsesses over homely guys? Guys who would be lucky to have sex with someone like Burdge in the real world? What kind of flight attendant goes nuts over a guy who looks like a peripheral drug dealer from John Frankenheimer‘s The French Connection II? I’m sorry but this movie lost me at Bonnard.