After...

Erratic camera-work, extreme close-ups, shifting focus, and rapid cuts: when utilised sparingly by a proficient director working in conjunction with a skilled editor, these movie-making techniques can help to effectively convey urgency, panic, and terror; however, in the hands of a less talented film-maker, one who lacks the finesse and experience to make judicious use of such methods, the results can be virtually unwatchable. Such is the case with David L. Cunningham's After.

I've seen a lot of bad films in my time, but there are very few that I loathe with such intensity as this virtually unwatchable mess, 76 minutes of migraine inducing garbage during which Cunningham never once uses a tripod, rarely sustains a shot for over a second, dispenses with such trivialities as keeping his picture in focus, and shines as many bright lights directly into the camera lens as humanly possible.

If all of that wasn't bad enough, the plot is completely unfathomable for 99% of the running time, after which all becomes clear(ish) with a trite twist ending that didn't even seem all that fresh over two decades ago when Adrian Lyne used it for Jacob's Ladder (a film that After clearly strives to emulate).