BennyM

The very idea of transposing a story so obviously set in a machismo banana republic to America is idiocy on a level all its own.

But apart from that, I'm having trouble deciding which was more painful here: The amateurish writing, the cheap iPhone look of the digital photography, the incompetent editing, the dead-voiced rendition of Amazing Grace over the end credits, or the knowledge that Michael Biehn has fallen so far as to produce and headline in dreck like this.

The fact that I managed to sit through this mess should be testament to my tolerance level, as should the fact that I've given the film two stars rather than one, just because it has William Forsythe in it. Even he can't do anything with the ridiculous clichés he's given to work with, though.

I'm sure someone will tell me that I should watch the original to see a better version. But I'm not going to. If the second time around is this bad with the same director at the helm, how good can the first one be?

Masterpiece? Don't make me laugh (though I could use it after seeing this shambolic mess).

The good: acting performances. The bad: everything else. Shoddy editing, lousy storytelling, inconsistent style... as an example, the use of the twirling camera sometimes indicates the (unnecessary) reverse-time jump, sometimes (especially in the first half hour) it's just (over)used, ostensibly to disorient the viewer. A grand purpose indeed.

Also, with a view to the storyline, there is no way Marcus would even have found out about Alex until the police showed up at his apartment. First, the rape happens a quarter of a mile away from where the party is being held - and in any event closer to the other end of the tunnel, so that's where the paramedics would pick her up. Why would the ambulance be parked right outside? Second, Marcus recognizing Alex is just ridiculous. She's on a stretcher with her clothes covered by a blanket, her face is a bloody balloon that looks nothing like Alex, and he's just snorted God knows how many lines of cocaine. Thus, the whole premise of the ensuing chase goes down the toilet.

And no, the reverse storytelling adds absolutely nothing to the story, as opposed to e.g. Pulp Fiction and Memento. This film's sole redeeming feature is the fact that it presents 15 minutes of prime material for rape-fetishists to post and download in their forums.

"In the future, everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes". True, this tendency has become more and more of a truism in recent years, what with shows like Big Brother, Survivor and the like. However, this is the ultimate in reality TV: Take a child with no talent whatsoever and let him or her spend a day with a music producer, talking about his or her hobby and then "composing" a "song" about it. Let the producer sex it up with a catchy beat, scratching and sound-bites, and what do you get? A product which not even my usually uncritical children want to see and which would cause me to disinherit them if I ever saw them on it. Not that I would ever allow them to be involved in such blatant exhibitionism in the first place.