Identity

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Just in case anyone gives a rat’s ass, I saw the movie Identity last night and have a few thoughts about it.

Now if you are anything like me, and God forbid that you are, you saw the trailer for this Hitchcockesque-thriller and wondered: “What the hell is John Cusack, sole survivor of 80’s dork-squad films more recently turned kickboxing-yet-sensitively-cool existential protaganist, doing in some schlocky horror flick?” Subsequent viewings of the trailer seemed to indicate that the flick might not be schlocky after all, and that the movie might, in fact, contain the semblance of an interesting idea. And then, of course, there was the title, “Identity,” which belied a horror classification and seemed to suggest something more abstract and conceptual. Just in case you missed the title, the film’s set-up offers a couple lingering shots of Sartre’s “Being and Nothingness” which Cuscack’s character has, like a complete and total ass, carefully left in plain view on the passenger seat of his limo just to show everyone how deep he is. So we see this and think – what? – Yippity-do-fucking-dah. Believe it or not, this sort of crass namedropping passes for “nuance” in North American cinema.

Don’t get your hopes up for this film. Don’t go into this film expecting to be scared, surprised or enlightened because unless you are the sort of person who thinks that a worn-out gimmick like multiple personality is a new and exciting idea, and unless the notion that the most obviously innocent and inconspicuous characters just might not be innocent at all but in fact might really be evil, two-faced monsters is a notion that has heretofore passed you by completely – in other words, unless you have not seen any films at all for the past 10 years - you will find nothing in this film that is particularly new or noteworthy.

Of course, it is nearly impossible to assemble 120 minutes of film without any redeeming qualities, and in this regard I might mention the occasionally amusing dialogue and the solid performances put in by Cuscak’s forehead, Ray Liotta’s eyes and Jake Busey’s front teeth. There is also a brutal and realistic car accident at the beginning of the film (and which is much better than the head-in-a-clothes dryer scene that some people seem to have been mysteriously impressed by, but not as good as the one in Adaptation). But the most important part of a thriller is the hook, and the hook in this film, frankly, is a bit of a turd. I went in with a suspicion that I might know what the hook was all about, and to my utter disappointment I ended up being dead right in every single respect.

Ah well. At least it was better than The Ring.
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