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Like if The Silence of the Lambs were (re)made exclusively for TikTok. Much like how Gretel & Hansel was an unintentional self-parody of art house horror, this is the same thing for serial killer films. For someone who is the offspring of one of the most iconic people in all of horror cinema, it's truly astounding how Oz Perkins has such little understanding of the genre and especially his influences, even committing the cardinal sin of giving us the worst Nicolas Cage performance in years. Maika Monroe is solid, Alicia Witt is very good, and Andrés Arochi's lighting is undeniably striking (a reasonably effective DP showcase, if anything), but they're all in service of such an artless, hackneyed picture. The last 30 minutes or so in particular are outright atrocious, throwing anything that could even slightly resemble ambiguity out the window.
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