When medical researcher Polly (Fraser) starts hearing noises she worries that she may be going mad. Then she finds her boss, Professor Greengrass (Richard E. Grant), has taken a worrying shine to her.
Making about as much sense a toddler trying to talk, Richard Bracewell’s second film is a patchy would-be thriller that clings to its star the way a drowning man holds on to a plank. Alas, not even Richard E. Grant as obsessed Professor Julius Greengrass can rouse this muddled tale of long-suffering Polly (Laura Fraser), with her dead-end job, dismal boyfriend (you can tell he’s a wrong ’un by his stubble and eyeliner) and trampy sister. You’ll care less though. The plot’s so threadbare as to be transparent, our hero hears voices in her home, an infidelity is uncovered, there’s an improbable murder and then the film slithers about trying to gain purchase without either idea or innovation to help right itself, before it finally peters out to an ignoble end.
With its unengaging characters and a plot that jacknifes inexplicably, there's little to like here. A thriller without many thrills.