The stuff I heard in advance suggested that the users of hourly motels they interviewed were despicable with an undercurrent of intense sadness. I would classify the crimes of these people as sad, but the crimes are not evil and not all of the six seem that sad.

The saddest people are the women sex trade workers. Their stories are cliche (hooker with a heart of gold and a stripper trying to get her kids back) but the delivery, editing and location keep it poignant.

The drug-addicted men treat the women in their lives as poorly as they treat themselves. They have a calm acceptance of their situations that makes me neither despise nor pity them. I’m particularly interested in high-functioning heroin addicts because heroin is generally presented as being so damaging to society, particularly the Vancouver of my childhood.

The other two characters, a giglo and a swinging woman, don’t seem sad at all: they’ve discovered unconventional sexualities that work for them. You could argue that they’re repressing existential loneliness, but who isn’t? Their lives would probably be most improved if the rest of the world didn’t make them sneak around in high-privacy motels.

There’s also Mr R, who isn’t fully fleshed-out. From what I gather, the director knew him in advance. His scenes are shoved into what is otherwise very tight editing.

I didn’t put Love at the Twilight Motel on my wish list, because I was worried that it would be too Miami-centric. But the purpose-built motels in Miami are just used to provide establishing shots for atmosphere. The people could just as easily live in any city in North America: you’ve heard these stories before but this is an engaging way to hear them again.