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May 21, 2007 | by  | in Film |
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Perfect Stranger

Around this time of the year, there is usually fuck all on. Actually, make that fuck all good movies on. With all the Hollywood heavy hitters surfacing in late November to make the Oscar cut, I guess something has to fill the big multiplex void that appears in mid February. Maybe they think that we will not notice because the weather is starting to get cold, because we have too many assignments due in, because the holidays are a now a distant memory, or because our lives generally suck. Well, if my life ever comes to suck enough that I enjoy a movie like Perfect Stranger, shoot me. The film epitomises everything that is bad about Hollywood films: shlocky stories which bamboozle you with incomprehensibly smart yet inaccurate technological information on which the plot hinges, barely competent, wooden big name acting, beautiful cinematography, soft pornography in case it gets boring (which it frequently does), an inability to suspend your disbelief at the coincidences and clichés which abound and the sinking feeling you could walk out half way and not miss a thing. Basically what happens is this: journalist (Halle Berry, who still cannot act) gets pissed off because yet another rich white man who she was about to uncover bought somebody off, goes after next rich white man (Bruce Willis – shame on him) who may or may not have killed her slutty, obsessive childhood friend in order to keep his wife from finding out. Helped by her nerdy sidekick (note to Giovanni Ribisi – nerds don’t have Peter Andre sixpacks), they set about luring Willis into a trap. Of course there is a lumbering and predictable twist in the tail which means that there will be a five minute period of unease when you do not know what’s going to happen next, so watch out for that. Also, but this might be just me, I think the sinister ending is supposed to make you scared and uncertain. Fuck you Hollywood. And fuck you to people who watch this kind of crap: your lives must really suck.

JAMES FOLEY

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