A people-under-siege film that quickly defies the suspension of disbelief to devolve into a rather labored drama intended to mine tension from chippy character interplay. A denizen from an after hours bar runs afoul of some baddies whom, after a tussle, are beaten back but apparently remain hovering menacingly outside the bar. One of their rank is apparently lying dead on the bar room floor after being bopped by the aforementioned denizen. A mysterious passerby (Maurice Dean Wint) who has helped to thwart the baddies remains inside and takes centre stage with card tricks, demands for a specialty drink called The Rifleman, regales dark stories from his past and plays mind games with the rest of the edgy, sketchily drawn troupe.. Meanwhile, the cops and ambulance are nowhere to be seen. (Who gets voicemail when dialling 911???) In a post-script scene, resident barflies are left to fill in the huge blanks left by the script. We're to assume that this dubious tale has become a thing of local urban myth.
The actors try mightily but, as is often the case of too many Canadian films, they are undone by a hoary script. A Long Night's Journey into Angst this ain't. Understandably, this sad entry did not achieve wide distribution.
The actors try mightily but, as is often the case of too many Canadian films, they are undone by a hoary script. A Long Night's Journey into Angst this ain't. Understandably, this sad entry did not achieve wide distribution.
