Description from IMDB: “A true-crime writer finds a cache of 8mm home movies films that suggest the murder he is currently researching is the work of a serial killer whose career dates back to the 1960s.”
If you’ve been dying to see Ethan Hawke in an old lady sweater, have I got a movie for you. He LOVEs that shiz. It looks like this.
Soooo…Hawke plays Elliott, who wrote this book which apparently pissed a bunch of law enforcement personnel off. He moves to a new town to write a new book. Unbeknownst to his wife, they’re moving into a house where some people were murdered.
Elliott discovers an old projector and a bunch of film reels in the attic. They contain footage of grisly murders. He sets the projector up in his office, pours a grown-up drink or six and proceeds to have the worst kind of movie marathon. Then creepy stuff starts happening.
Sounds pretty exciting, yes?
Meh. Yes and no. This is one of those movies, like Paranormal Activity, that make you sit through a whole bunch of boring crap to get to the scary parts. It felt like the movie that would never end, and then on top of that, the plot was predictable.