I caught this film on Netflix the other night in the "recommended for me" section. It certainly looked promising: a taut psychological thriller with Julianne Moore as Dr. Cara Harding, a forensic psychologist trying to disprove a diagnosis of multiple personality disorder in mental patient David/Adam/Wesley (Jonathan Rhys Meyers).
But it quickly morphs from the cooly clinical and scientific to hillbilly voodoo and fundie religious hokum replete with a hot, steaming, incomprehensible -- some of it kind of fun in its incoherence -- compost heap of plot elements: the 1918 flu epidemic; skin rashes; chronic coughs yielding -- ughh -- dirt; slip-and-falls; spinal injuries; atheism; Catholicism; faith healers; vaccines; curses; snake venom potions; apparitions on video; and a suddenly discovered -- and quite laughable -- silent film, replete with +90 year old narrator. There's even a test for red-green color blindness.
And, like the antagonist, this film suffers from an identity crisis. Is it a psychological thriller? A slasher / stalker film? A medical mystery? A serial killer whodunnit? A witchcraft / occult movie? I enjoyed just trying to figure out what the producers had in mind. This is like a film made my committee (or someone with multiple personality disorder).
Saving grace: A good faith try at making the crazy script work by Moore. And an enthusiastically evil performance Meyers, though he needs to take an intensive "American accents" workshop. That southern twangy thing was the worst, and so not right for upper Apalachia.
But all-in-all, I actually like really bad, messy movies, especially those that try so hard. Maybe Netflix knows me afterall? Hence the six -- how appropriate -- stars rating.
