Julianna Hough and Teddy Sears of 'The Flash' star in this Blumhouse 'horror'. This is a ponderous metaphor that moves at the speed of a spavined snail. There is an acrimonious confrontation in this horribly medicore film. This was not significantly original. This was all palaver and it was not outright impressive.
The 'heroine' does baby talking and is tediously inane as some strange man does an insidious rampage. This was a mildly absurd tale of nefarious purposes. This was completely and utterly dreadful. This was not raw or moving or thrillingly unsettling. This was codology and clearly not of great importance. The heroine's banal life of inertia is interrupted. There is no sombre background of doom. This was inconsequential.
The 'heroine' wears hot pants in a corrupt kip. This was not a convincing chronicle. This was largely dismal and wholly useless and full of familiar dramatic tropes. I don't care about her private anguish. This was mediocre and witless and it was all incompetence. He takes his shirt off. They're in an isolated area. This was bland nothings. This was unseemly and he's a menace. This was not chilling, blunt or brutal.
A plot is afoot. There is a car wreck and this was deteriorating and frustrating. The irresponsible bimbo and some unhinged man bore. This was not distressing. This was not ineffably sad and there is no empathy. This was a sordid tale and it was chaotic and there is no dread and despair. The 'heroine' was stuck in her car. The man is an absolute nutjob. This was nonsense and there is no surge in tension. There was bad acting and ongoing aggression.
“Too slutty for a second date?”
A documentary about the aftermath of a nightclub fire in Romania. No.