Not yet released though having had its world premiere at the Cannes Film Festival last week, James Franco proves he still has much to learn as a director with his brave yet misguided attempt at William Faulkner's titular, apparently unadaptable novel. The problems are apparent from the outset; Franco frames much of the film in split-screen, which often displays only slightly different perspectives of the same image, and smacks of a director who doesn't have a confident visual sensibility. Though the performances generally fare better, Franco appears to have told his actors to mumble as incomprehensibly as possible, such that while it might feel well steeped in the period's vernacular, making head or tail of it is a sure challenge. Outside of this, the director stages things with a ponderous, inert air that ensures he can't at all deliver on his promises - the feeling is of a talented actor over-reaching and somewhat embarrassing himself as a result.