Addictive thriller about a serial killer who targets entire families and a federal investigator with a knack for getting inside the heads of such monsters. Misses an extra star both for its tired conceit that hunter and hunted are essentially the same (which leads to some confusion as to how, exactly, we are supposed to respond to the murderer) and an ending that is as deflating as it is unbelievable. Introduces Hannibal Lecter (though he isn't the killer). Filmed twice, first as the excellent Manhunter (1986), directed by Michael Mann, then as Red Dragon (2002), directed by Brett Ratner. Followed by The Silence of the Lambs.
***
Addictive thriller about a serial killer who targets entire families and a federal investigator with a knack for getting inside the heads of such monsters. Misses an extra star both for its tired conceit that hunter and hunted are essentially the same (which leads to some confusion as to how, exactly, we are supposed to respond to the murderer) and an ending that is as deflating as it is unbelievable. Introduces Hannibal Lecter (though he isn't the killer). Filmed twice, first as the excellent Manhunter (1986), directed by Michael Mann, then as Red Dragon (2002), directed by Brett Ratner. Followed by The Silence of the Lambs.
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* Girls might indeed have reason to oppose boys if all of them were as flaccid as this film. It's a barely written story of two young women (Danielle Panabaker and Nicole LaLiberte) who, after one of them is raped, begin killing any man who looks at them crossways. Sensing perhaps the deficiencies in his own script, Austin Chick directs as though he can tease significance from a scene if he just keeps the camera rolling long enough -- nearly convincing us during one interminable following seqence that Ms. Panabaker's blonde hair must somehow provide a major plot point later in the film. (It doesn't.) This movie has no plot points, just one killing after another, each one just as dull as Panabaker's affectless performance. But if that's the point -- the degree to which we have all become desensitized to violence -- its only confirmation is in the fact that this film's assault on our senses is more likely to induce ennui than vigorous defense. ** One-time Reuters correspondent Forsyth plays to his strengths -- documentation and reportage -- in telling the story of a West German reporter attempting to track down Eduard Roschmann, a former SS officer who, as commandant of the Riga Ghetto, killed thousands. He gets crash courses in post-war Nazi hunting and the Odessa, which, he discovers, is a clandestine organization established at the end of World War II to facilitate the flight and resettlement under new identities of Nazi war criminals. All of which, including the contents of an old Jewish man's diary of his time in Riga that more than adequately establishes the evil of the SS and of Roschmann in particular, is fine and dandy. The problem is that the hero's quest, taking him from one less-than-revelatory source to another, may resonate more with other reporters than readers of thrillers. Forsyth fails even to allow the man to reflect on his real reason for pursuing Roschmann, which is the open secret of nearly the entire book. When the action finally picks up in the final quarter, it is marred by rather too much luck and coincidence, as well as some awfully stupid behavior from the bad guys. Not bad, by any means, but not nearly as exciting as you might expect. ** Medical student Susan Wheeler attempts to unravel the baffling mystery of several cases of unexplained coma at Memorial Hospital in Boston, rapidly uncovering a vast, sinister conspiracy that puts her own life in danger. Sounds exciting, but after a promising beginning, Cook undermines the whole thing with his ludicrous characterization of Susan (and everyone else in the book), incompetent criminals, and the logical union of both: laughably unbelievable crisis resolutions. It's too bad, too, because the plot is genuinely disturbing. At least the medical portions are realistic and fun, in a queasy, glad-it's-not-me sort of way. * Generic muddle about a cop chasing a serial killer/kidnapper. Makes so little sense, director O’Neill has to go back and show us all the clues leading to its just-because-we-can ending, though all that gets clarified is just how bad and illogical this film is. “Inspired by” true events, which would appear to be a mixture of the Joseph Fritzl and Gary Heidnik cases, with some Manson-like brainwashing thrown in to glue it all together. John Cusack plays every maverick cop ever, breaking things, beating people up, and doggedly pursuing his goal until, of course, he brilliantly solves the case. The best line in the film occurs during the Christmas season, when a young boy whose older sister has been kidnapped asks his mom, “If Abby doesn’t come back, do I get her presents?” What should have been a poignant moment is notable only for its comedy. A dismal effort all around.
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