A renowned horror director restages his wife's grisly murder in his next film, but is faking the actors deaths enough for him?
Bernard Rose, a once-promising British filmmaker, misfires spectacularly with this lurid, DV-shot sleazefest. At best, Rose is punching above his intellectual weight; at worst, indulging himself, and exploiting his cast, just as Arkadin does. He could have saved himself a five-year struggle by renting Michael Haneke’s masterful Funny Games, which made the same point — the audience’s complicity in screen violence — more effectively. Disturbing and distasteful, and not in a good way.
Interesting concept very poorly handled so it just ends up gratuitously...er...bad.
Reviewed by Genevieve Harrison