Great, what might have been a generic, boring, by numbers police thriller film, turned out in fact to be a generic, boring, by numbers slasher flick. With the inclusion of “found footage.” Oh Joy.
You know how in films there’s sometimes that old cop or sheriff in the Old West that’s just seen too much? They don’t actively look to die, but at the same time, the life has been lost from them, and you see how the years of bad experiences have worn away deep into their soul, and all happiness and warmth and human feeling has just been replaced with abject disappointment and tiredness? This film has the capacity to do that to a person.
Two detectives show up at the scene of a massacre and use the various surveillance equipment there to piece together what happened; kind of like what would happen if CSI met Paranormal Activities. Which is a nice enough way to rationalize the film style, and the only point for creativity this one scores. From there, terrible acting combines with his brother, terrible scriptwriting, with a visit from Cousin Terrible Directing to produce a film that perhaps only has value when the disc is used as a substitute Frisbee.
The problem is, there are worse movies in the world (if only one or two) but it’s the soullessness of this movie that makes me so sad about it; what it represents in the world of creative enterprise. Mankind had infinite potential. And we spent it on this.
I feel… …cold… …hold me.