Directed by Sharron Miller. Written by David O’Malley. Starring John Ericson, Ivor Francis, Judith Novgrad, Bernard Fox and Burr Debenning.
Plot: a cheating husband (Ericson) caught in a storm, seeks refuge with a mortician (Francis) who tells him four stories about people who have wound up in his establishment.
Right off the bat, I want to tell you that A) this would not have happened to us because we’re not cheaters. And B) I’m spoiling everything, so if you don’t want to know, stop reading now.
The first story is about a teacher who doesn’t even like kids who ends up getting bitten to death by children or things that look like children. The end is a bit of an acid trip, not sure why. We’re also not sure of the of the rules or the motive.
The second story is about a photographer who kills women on tape and is then executed. That’s it. No other story. No real point. Like, WTF!
The third story is about two detectives, one English and one American. And the English detective wants the American one dead so that he’ll be the best dectective in the whole world. It’s so weird. We don’t get it.
The fourth story is about a man trapped in a building and tortured. But once again we’re not sure why, the acting was bad and there’s not much of a story to it.
Altogether it was a dumb movie with an awful soundtrack.
Our score: 18.