David Allen Griffin is a cool killer- time and time again, he chooses a female victim, studies her for weeks till he knows her routine to the smallest detail, makes meticulous preparations ...
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Neal Cassady is living the beat life during the 1940s, working at The Tire Yard and and philandering around town. However, he has visions of a happy life with kids and a white picket fence.... See full summary »
Unaware of its terrible history, a young couple purchases their dream home. But it soon becomes clear that they may not be alone in the house... and that someone -- or something -- is determined to drive them out.
David Allen Griffin is a cool killer- time and time again, he chooses a female victim, studies her for weeks till he knows her routine to the smallest detail, makes meticulous preparations using his forensic knowledge to gain entry when she's quite alone, subdues her and administers a long, torturous death. Joel Campbell got so frustrated by his failure to capture Griffin in Los Angeles, that he quit the FBI, moved to Chicago, and remains in psychiatric therapy, unable to function normally. Then he realizes, when opening his mail very late, that a new murder victim is Griffin's, and the killer sent him pictures of her. Campbell reports this to the police, but is unwilling to join them in the search, suggesting Griffin is too slick and clever; yet he won't get out of it that easily.Written by
It's hard to decide what exactly is the worst thing about this attempt at a crime mystery movie: the jerky, indecisive cinematography; the intrusive "alternative" soundtrack; terrible acting; the completely cliched script or the general frustration one has in trying to watch this movie that is truly an insult to one's intelligence.
The story follows a burned-out, pill-popping ex-LAPD cop played straight out of the cliche handbook by James Spader. He relocates to Chicago where he lives in a terrible apartment, complete with an empty fridge and a water heater in the kitchen. He is haunted by the memories of a serial killer, who prayed on young women.
Keanu Reeves is that killer, and he follows him to Chicago, because apparentally he has nothing better to do, and he doesn't seem to have to work either. After taunting James Spader with two more young women who quickly become victims, and extending the movie length during the first forty minutes, Keanu finally makes it personal by targeting Spader's psychiatrist played by a confused, and noticeably weary, Marisa Tomei.
By this point, I was exasperated and shut the movie the off. Not only is this final chain of events so predictable, but soon after Keanu and James share an elevator ride together - after a flashback sequence indicated that Reeves had once targeted Spader's wife back in Los Angeles AND SPADER HAD SEEN HIM.
"The Watcher" is about as predictable, scary and haunting as a jack-in-the-box.
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