THE NESTING
I wish my 500th review was for a better movie

  Nothing really special about this one, it just kind of worked out that way, but this marks FIVE HUNDRED REVIEWS!!!  Man, I've really got to get a life!  But not before tonight, which is my birthday, on which I intend to first just get some beer.  Yeah.  Some.  Right.

It may be a little unfair of me to rag on this film, since the copy I just watched is so mangled and worn that for half the film, there's a contorted green "ghost" image to the left of everything.  But no, I'm afraid no first-class print could save this film.  Suck is suck.

An aspiring writer comes into possession of a big Victorian house, which turns out to once have been a brothel, and whaddya know, it's haunted.  So basically, it's about a woman haunted by dead skanky ho's.  Jeez, and I thought that only happened to Hugh Grant.

Dialogue like "It's a perfect place to write!" "That's a novel idea!" and "Seems downright unsmart to me!" is sure to send you leaping for the eject button.

There's a "rooftop rescue" scene which feels like it's about a half hour long; it has a not-bad payoff, but it's frustrating as hell waiting for it.  There's even a car chase, and it uses the exact same "tires skidding" sound effect no less than nine times.  (I swear, even the first time I heard this, I strongly sensed that this was an oft-used sound effect in other films.  It's the "Dr. Davis, telephone please" of car-chase scenes.)

Directed and co-written by porno grad Armand Weston.  Also known as Phobia.

BACK TO MAIN PAGE BACK TO THE N's