Obscure, pleasantly dark little HBO-made drama about the hunt for Ukie serial killer Andrei Chikatilo, who killed 50-somethin’ women and children before the collapse of the Soviet Union. Adapted from the Killer Department, a non-fiction account of the whole affair, this film is a a surprising winner, in spite of the endearing moments when Sutherland seems to forget he’s supposed to have a Russian accent. The film builds suspense by depicting how efforts to catch the killer were endlessly delayed and sabotaged by Soviet bureaucracy and inefficiency, without sinking into excessive steretyping/clichés about US-Soviet relations. Decent rainy-Sunday-afternoon flick.
freeze-frame on joy-jump,
roll credits; this is how we do
psychic blind kids/meatwad pac men
monch up your whole crew
It seems like everytime Sci-Fi reruns this movie, I keep catching the last 5 minutes when they reappear in the airport. Quite possibly the worst 5 minutes in film history. No one seems to know how to act, and deliver their terribly written dialogue awkwardly. The fat guy wants to eat. Dean Stockwell and David Morse just look embarassed to be there at all. Patricia Wettig babbles like a 12 year old hippie after her first bong hit, and then they go skipping out of the airport and into a freeze frame straight out of a 60’s sitcom.
Wettig’s clearly ad libbed “I’m so happy!” as they’re running out is just hilariously awful.
Nonononono, “I’m talking about DAISIES!!!!!!!!!” Shut the f up Laurel.
To cultivate good taste in the bad, or to simply have bad taste… a fine line, Mädchen und Jungen. But if anything from 1995 were going to serve both types of losers, it’d be ol’ Langoliers (that or Evolver).
And if you sit through the whole 3 hours of it, you’re given witness to the best worst final shot in the history of cinema. (more…)