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A French anthropologist gets murdered in Los Angeles after discovering the existence of ancient demonic spirits, first described in old Inuit legends, that can take human form and prank, possess or even kill people. Before he dies, he reveals this secret to a young female doctor who quickly realizes that his wife is now in danger as well.Written by
Chris Makrozahopoulos <firstname.lastname@example.org>
The late eighties was very experimental and risk taking in films. And that's why I'm not going to lambaste this movie.
This is an experiment that fails.
It probably should have been good, but this has to be one of the worst 100 directing jobs ever.
It's too confusing to tell you what it's about. You won't be able to stay awake for any ten minute stretch, so you will have to watch it in chunks. "Plodding" is the huge understatement for this movie.
It's a supernatural piece about a woman who hallucinates seeing a man who has died, and what occurs in the movie is something you could never possibly guess without looking at the "plot synopsis" in the guide. There's nothing in the movie to tell you what it is about.
The mistake here is that the director tries too hard. Technically, things look good. The women who occupy most of the screen time are very pretty. There is some good scenery in rare spots.
Technically, the dramatic suspense is text book, but it isn't inspired. It simply drags and drags. And the good scenery is rare compared to the bland city scenery. Hospitals, cars, streets, homes are dull. Making them duller with actors plying their "suspense" acting makes it a debacle.
I don't care about the accents. The actors try, and that's the problem. It's all "trying". The director extends every scene to make it last forever. Roughly 90 minutes is what this runs. It should have been 8 minutes.
The experiment here, by the director, was to suspend everything, to try to make the most out of a simple movement. There was a popular poet-teacher who held a "Writer's meeting" in Louisville named Leon Driskoll, who loved that sort of boredom, but it bores me to tears. Still, I realize there are people like him who love boredom.
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