Clean cut girl and boy next door doctors (Genevieve Bujold and Michael Douglas) talk in non compelling fashion as medical techno babble is uttered. At a hospital, a lot of patients fall into irreversible comas. The female doctor asks questions and bad things happen to her. This film connives at its own irrelevance and it invokes impatience and misgivings as it is non-effective at creating tension or interest. Moral turpitude, scurrilous lies, indignity, a creepy coma ward, increasingly depraved acts, outright hostility, murder, denunciations, stony faced nutters, sheer madness and reputational damage are on display. But the moral pulchritude, ire and blame apportion is extraordinarily boring with dated dialogue and it leaves one unfulfilled. There is no social realism as the female doctor uncovers incentivised comas and suffers for her insubordination and whistle blowing against the goblin faced doctors. This was egregiously and appalling bad.
“He’s the wrong man to cross.”
Ten Little Indians (1989)
This is yet another take on Agatha Christie’s ‘And Then There Were None’, this time set on an African safari in the 1930s. There is scenery and a cast of no names and neverweres. Everyone has gone on safari at the invitation of an unknown host, weird dolls are on the dining table and the idiots schlep around being self-obsessed and treating spooky events as whimsy. It must have taken significant effort to set up this painstaking murder trap, but that is ignored. A gramophone record is played accusing the safari goers of murder and promising retaliation and injury on the injurers. This was void of talent and disastrously silly.
This was all bleak dimness as characters vacillate between hysteria and flatness. Oddly they don’t leave, they just sit around and soon they start dying. The murderer is one of them. It is obvious who the murderer is as he’s played by Donald Pleasence. Characters show off cholers, wild idiot behaviour and hostility in the self-enforced isolation. This was meticulously, incomprehensibly crepuscular as the litigious killer strikes. Vera takes a shower. A General stomps around. A spit-take is taken. The guide Lombard (Frank Stallone) polishes his gun. A game of croquet is played and there is bad acting, screaming and the intrusive soundtrack is ripped off from ‘Jaws’. What are they doing with all the bodies? There is yelling, revelations, crying, the killer whips out a silly outfit, Vera faces off with the killer and doesn’t try to fight him off, Hemlock is produced and the ending is ridiculous. Two characters escape, hook up and get away with their crimes. TPTB try to deflect their guilt for a hasty wrap up of plot and disposal of baddie. I abhorred this barely coherent mess.
“You know what Napoleon said about defeat?”
“I can’t remember.”
“This is strange.”
“I forbid anyone to insult our host.”
“Devil is amongst us!”
“I think we should leave right now.”
“Damn you Owen!”