I can’t even really figure out what is going on here. Charlotte, an interior decorator to the absurdly uber-rich, likes to murder the uber-rich women who live on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, and hunts her victims by Craigslist, the US-based online classifieds community. As we join Charlotte in her crazy (seriously) life, she is fondling a fancy Hungarian piece of chinaware and preparing to batter her latest victim with a fire poker, instead of buying an eighteen-carat bracelet from her.
So far, so farcical, right? Except it’s not funny. Charlotte is bitter, has mother issues, steals from her clients (who are admittedly, quite bizarre. Who has a $300,000 paddling pool built for their dog and then wants it shifted ten feet to the right?) and is a serial killer. She’s also morosely single, cynical, looks down on everybody from her best friend to her newest client.
One for fans of Nick Hornby with a macabre twist. I think.
