Full disclosure: I'm not just any old audience member for this picture. I've also worked on a Villisca-related project, co-writing, directing and appearing in one entitled "Haunting Villisca." Ours was far rougher than this one, from a production standpoint (I suspect we had a small fraction of this one's budget) and, sadly, we did no better with reviewers.
My own reaction to this one is. . .frustration and bewilderment. I don't care for the picture but I wouldn't, regardless of whether or not I myself had made one. It's lodged very uncomfortably in a very small space: true crime meets paranormal activity meets teen slasher flick. Finding the intersection of those circles is going to be dicey work indeed and, having attempted something like it, we may have to admit that it cannot be done at all.
The picture isn't all bad - some elements are exceedingly well-done - but the more important point, to me, is that the case has not attracted and given rise to the sort of high-achieving work we who are familiar with it believe could be produced.
What's the problem? I wish I knew. I've often described the case as an itch between the shoulder blades, the itch that takes up residence in that one insanely inaccessible spot. You feel you'll go mad if you can't somehow deal with it. So you write a book, you write a song, you make a movie. They're all undertaken with the best of intentions, and they all fall short (Roy Marshall's book, "Villisca," comes the closest to fullness, combining a law officer's obsession over evidence with a folksy charm that lifts the endeavor onto a higher plane, one approaching "art.")
No, I don't like this movie very much. Then again, I don't like ANY of them - my own included - very much. The dragon of history sleeps soundly still; he's not been prodded sufficiently into yielding up his treasure. Someday, perhaps.
