Driving this indie film is the "Devil" sent me to collect your soul story. The white-suited silver tongued Dude with the well worn doctor's bag is a pulp-fiction icon. So we have a blood-letting that is neither surprisingly sordid or unusually gruesome.
It is all done matter of fact with a sermon like accompaniment of Southern Preacher platitudes and ironic overtones. Nothing here is exceptionally creepy or scary and is not profound just functionary. There is very little suspense and even less that is horrifying.
One is reminded of a tale from the dark side or an E.C. Comic adaptation without the twist ending or a satisfactory denouement. This movie is all surface with no penetration into a warped mind that seems to be the point of it all. Only a home (is where the heart pump is) invasion that clicks off the victims in a predictable pecking order.
It is all done matter of fact with a sermon like accompaniment of Southern Preacher platitudes and ironic overtones. Nothing here is exceptionally creepy or scary and is not profound just functionary. There is very little suspense and even less that is horrifying.
One is reminded of a tale from the dark side or an E.C. Comic adaptation without the twist ending or a satisfactory denouement. This movie is all surface with no penetration into a warped mind that seems to be the point of it all. Only a home (is where the heart pump is) invasion that clicks off the victims in a predictable pecking order.