
D.J. Caruso directs Angelina Jolie, Ethan Hawke and Gena Rowlands in this serial killer thriller where a FBI profiler heads up to Canada to catch a psycho who takes over his victim’s identities for a year.
Now That’s What I Call A Serial Killer Movie Vol 43. All the tropes you are bored of and a few too many wild swings which fail to connect. Sifting for gold, here are the rare flakes. There’s a pretty brief but undeniably hot sex scene at the start of the third act. There’s a big name actor included as a red herring in an almost mercenarily wasteful way. There’s a good jump shock involving a bed. There’s an endgame finale that is… bonkers, just not very inspired. Yet it is all too slick and tension free to really enjoy. Like someone has xeroxed all the nuance out of a middling peer like Copycat or someone is trying to make a two hour pop promo based on a rental blurb they read about The Silence of the Lambs. But never bothered to watch the actual classic. Frequently laughable, it might work better as a parody.
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