If it bleeds, it leads.

Marinating in the sleaze of the night, Jake Gyllenhaal oozes his way down every dark alleyway and neon-splashed side street in L.A.

He’s a camera for hire, recording crime and violence, the ickier the better, than selling the footage to slimy TV producers who use the grit ‘n grime to pump up ratings on their nightly shows.

There are no good guys (or good gals) in this desolate modern-day wild west, just a pack of vultures feeding off of each other in a bid to get ahead.

Emotionally brutal, and beautifully bleak.

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