The romantic subtext is the central emotional motor of the series, what keeps it from collapsing into absurdity.
Francis is imprisoned like most of us within a version of life produced by his mind.
The Captive plays like the overeager idiot brother to Egoyan’s superior The Sweet Hereafter.
Sometimes, a ruse is so convincing that everyone is fooled, swept up by the yank of the proverbial rug.
Penetrate the dream, and you’ll understand the nightmare.
The most chilling thing about Mann and Brian Cox’s version of Lecktor is his verisimilitude.
If the remake stinks, that’s only because it removes the moody pacing and reveals the essential silliness under the former’s classy Euro-glaze.
We must taste really, really good.