Several years after her husband's murder, a haunted widow approaches the police with new evidence. Unfortunately the perpetrators discover that the case is re-opened, and they set out to kil... Read allSeveral years after her husband's murder, a haunted widow approaches the police with new evidence. Unfortunately the perpetrators discover that the case is re-opened, and they set out to kill the eyewitnesses and the widow herself.Several years after her husband's murder, a haunted widow approaches the police with new evidence. Unfortunately the perpetrators discover that the case is re-opened, and they set out to kill the eyewitnesses and the widow herself.
Storyline
Did you know
- TriviaFeature directorial debut for film instructor and short filmmaker Jean Bodon.
- ConnectionsReferenced in Rewind This! (2013)
- SoundtracksRUN AWAY
Words and Music by Rick Barron
Featured review
I was all set for this to be a routine suspense story with the leading lady the usual victim trapped quivering in her house as the bad guys rage outside and gradually claw their way in. 'A widowed woman is being stalked by her husband's murderers,' says the plot description at IMDb and the tagline reads simply, 'What she saw... could kill her.' That isn't what this film is. I started out with the wrong expectations and felt suitably chastised when I realised how far off I was. At heart, this is a character study of a random event, the killing of David Dietz, which is never really explained or rationalised. We're given no perspective and we aren't even sure he was murdered. Yes, the killers are utterly responsible but maybe they just wanted his wife and he was merely in the way. Who knows? Stuart Kaminsky does but he doesn't want to tell us. All he wants us to know is that two men killed a third and that the action has serious ramifications.
Beyond David, who is dead, we end up meeting a lot of people who were affected by the killing. Most obviously there's Maureen Dietz, the victim's wife, who is a strong woman but still allowing the event to shape her eight years on. There's Barry, their son, who was a child at the time but who hasn't had counselling and obviously needs it. There's the cop given the case who couldn't let it be. There's the former partner of the cop, who ends up involved throughout. There's Bittie, who owned the restaurant where it happened, and the staff and customers who were there at the time and saw it go down. There are the killers themselves, who live with their actions, even when they think they've been forgotten. In one of the best scenes, there's even the cousin of the killers, who feels ashamed to be related to them but can't find a way out of blood. The script leisurely works its way around to all of them and gets tighter and tighter as it does so.
When I watched Meg Foster in Welcome to Arrow Beach, I was struck by how the film started so promisingly but fell apart horribly halfway through. Here I found almost the opposite: a slow and simple story that seemed like nothing special gradually building into a real treat. By the time it got to the end, I found myself turning some of what had initially felt like weak moments into the strongest parts of the film. I'd noted the clumsy choreography of a couple of key scenes but later realised how the clumsiness highlighted how believably real they were. These characters aren't slick Hollywood stereotypes, they're fleshed out, flawed characters that do dumb things, and for a change I found that refreshing to consider while the credits rolled. I don't know how much of that really warrants praise to the cast and crew and how much is a mere reflection of the budget, which was not high, but it built into a notable success far more than I ever expected.
The greatest praise surely has to go to Stuart Kaminsky, who is both a bestselling novelist and a noted film fan, so much so that he set his Toby Peters mystery series in the Hollywood of the noir era and featured real actors like Cary Grant and Joan Crawford. He wrote over sixty novels but a mere pair of them fell outside his regular series. This is the second of that pair, so presumably a concept that he held close to his heart. It's not surprising, because it focuses on character, which a writer thrives on. The film feels like a novel too, which isn't a bad thing. The substance is there to draw us in as we realise that every character we meet has a story of their own and nobody is without a reason to be there. One realisation that especially surprised me is that, wherever the story takes us, the authorities are notably absent. After the hospital scene, it's all about civilians. Even Helen may not even be a cop any more. If she is, she's on vacation out of her jurisdiction.
While I felt dismissive for a while, this grew on me and it feels very much like a film to return to again and again to ponder. I'm really interested in how it would play on a second run through, as the gimmickry isn't important. Yes, there's a twist, though nothing much relies on it. It's all about those character studies, each and every one of them, and the mildly obscure cast do well, their mild obscurity helping a little. Frederic Forrest from The Rose, Apocalypse Now and Falling Down is the only other name I knew beyond Foster, but I've seen others without realising who they are. I liked Wally Taylor a lot as the restaurant owner and Dan Fitzgerald gives an excellent showing as the killers' cousin. Patrick Cherry is most obvious of all as Cal, the crippled killer. Frenchman Jean Bodon hadn't directed a feature before but made a subtle winner here. How much so, I'll tell you in a year or two when I watch it again. Maybe by then it'll be available on DVD. It should be. (Hal C. F. Astell)
Beyond David, who is dead, we end up meeting a lot of people who were affected by the killing. Most obviously there's Maureen Dietz, the victim's wife, who is a strong woman but still allowing the event to shape her eight years on. There's Barry, their son, who was a child at the time but who hasn't had counselling and obviously needs it. There's the cop given the case who couldn't let it be. There's the former partner of the cop, who ends up involved throughout. There's Bittie, who owned the restaurant where it happened, and the staff and customers who were there at the time and saw it go down. There are the killers themselves, who live with their actions, even when they think they've been forgotten. In one of the best scenes, there's even the cousin of the killers, who feels ashamed to be related to them but can't find a way out of blood. The script leisurely works its way around to all of them and gets tighter and tighter as it does so.
When I watched Meg Foster in Welcome to Arrow Beach, I was struck by how the film started so promisingly but fell apart horribly halfway through. Here I found almost the opposite: a slow and simple story that seemed like nothing special gradually building into a real treat. By the time it got to the end, I found myself turning some of what had initially felt like weak moments into the strongest parts of the film. I'd noted the clumsy choreography of a couple of key scenes but later realised how the clumsiness highlighted how believably real they were. These characters aren't slick Hollywood stereotypes, they're fleshed out, flawed characters that do dumb things, and for a change I found that refreshing to consider while the credits rolled. I don't know how much of that really warrants praise to the cast and crew and how much is a mere reflection of the budget, which was not high, but it built into a notable success far more than I ever expected.
The greatest praise surely has to go to Stuart Kaminsky, who is both a bestselling novelist and a noted film fan, so much so that he set his Toby Peters mystery series in the Hollywood of the noir era and featured real actors like Cary Grant and Joan Crawford. He wrote over sixty novels but a mere pair of them fell outside his regular series. This is the second of that pair, so presumably a concept that he held close to his heart. It's not surprising, because it focuses on character, which a writer thrives on. The film feels like a novel too, which isn't a bad thing. The substance is there to draw us in as we realise that every character we meet has a story of their own and nobody is without a reason to be there. One realisation that especially surprised me is that, wherever the story takes us, the authorities are notably absent. After the hospital scene, it's all about civilians. Even Helen may not even be a cop any more. If she is, she's on vacation out of her jurisdiction.
While I felt dismissive for a while, this grew on me and it feels very much like a film to return to again and again to ponder. I'm really interested in how it would play on a second run through, as the gimmickry isn't important. Yes, there's a twist, though nothing much relies on it. It's all about those character studies, each and every one of them, and the mildly obscure cast do well, their mild obscurity helping a little. Frederic Forrest from The Rose, Apocalypse Now and Falling Down is the only other name I knew beyond Foster, but I've seen others without realising who they are. I liked Wally Taylor a lot as the restaurant owner and Dan Fitzgerald gives an excellent showing as the killers' cousin. Patrick Cherry is most obvious of all as Cal, the crippled killer. Frenchman Jean Bodon hadn't directed a feature before but made a subtle winner here. How much so, I'll tell you in a year or two when I watch it again. Maybe by then it'll be available on DVD. It should be. (Hal C. F. Astell)
- bodon-146-318615
- Feb 17, 2016
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