PHILM: SECRET WINDOW Interesting edge-of-madness thriller, blah. Pulse-pounding blah, who-done-it psychodrama. Viscerally well-done at times, but not nearly as scary or mysterious as it wants to be. Imagine:
John Goodman is lumbering ferociously down the hallway of a sticky, decrepit hotel, blowing off spit, sweat and rounds from a shotgun. Flames leap into being on the walls as he advances. He bellows, “I’LL SHOW YOU THE LIFETIME MOVIE OF THE WEEK!!!”
Secret Window is fun if you like tales where the protagonist or narrator is playing three card monte with himself. Depp and Torturo give enjoyably menacing performances, but too many revelations too quickly and too cleanly at the end leave the film feeling tied-off instead of finished. Stephen King often leaves me feeling that way: a dark good time that could have been more compelling. A rainy night rental, maybe.
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