Solidly in the great sick-fuck-cinema tradition of 'M,' 'Taxi Driver,' and 'Combat Shock.'Peter Greene (in a breakout performance) is Peter Winter, a schizophrenic searching for his estranged little daughter, who lives with her adoptive mother. His own mother is detached and clueless about his illness, even when she walks in on Peter trying on his childhood coat and mumbling to himself. Meanwhile, a little girl has been found murdered, and the evidence points to Peter. Frustrated detective Robert Albert is on Peter’s trail, and writer-director Lodge Kerrigan, drawing us deep inside the subjective viewpoints of both men, suggests that either of them could be the killer. By the end, we’re still not sure.
Working with cinematographer Teodoro Maniaci and composer Hahn Rowe, Kerrigan creates an indelible portrait of a fragmenting mind, an ominously quiet landscape violated by radio static (which reflects Peter’s disordered psyche). Those who saw Greene in The Mask and Pulp Fiction (he was one of the hillbilly rapists of Ving Rhames) won’t be prepared for his vulnerable yet implosive performance here; his unblinking eyes communicate volumes of anguish.A definite must-see for the adventurous.
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