One comes to resent the film for how it thrills to the possibility of a father hurting his children.
As Zac Efront’s Cole tiptoes away from his past, the film keenly observes a character who doesn’t know how to secure his future, or his identity.
The kind of wholly misconceived thriller that begs asking precisely what its filmmakers were seeking to accomplish.
Gregg Araki’s film suggests a hothouse melodrama that’s been drained of the hothouse, the melodrama, and any other discernably dramatic stakes.
It showcases the evolving interests and talents of Zal Batmanglij and Brit Marling, but expands them and channels them into a more traditional thriller framework.
The film is a serviceable, if unremarkable, tale of doomed, cross-class love and criminal activity set against the remote backdrop of a New England mountain town.
The setup and geography are consistent with the original, though the film never makes the mistake of trying to rebottle the lightning that electrified Sam Raimi’s movie.
Anthony Burns’s film adopts a loose, freewheeling tone that aims to privilege people and place over plotting.