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Trauma review

Swapping bushy sideburns for designer stubble, Colin Firth makes a brave but ultimately doomed attempt to ditch his Mr Darcy image in this inane, confusing chiller from Marc Evans, director of lo-fi horror My Little Eye. Waking from a coma to learn his wife has died in a car crash, Ben (Firth) retreats to his flat to brood, mope and, er, tend his ant colony. But the girl next door (Mena Suvari) won't leave him alone - and soon he's being plagued by psychics, psychiatrists and suspicious coppers...

Evans pulls out the stops to convey Firth's derangement, jolting the viewer constantly with jump cuts, macabre visuals and off-kilter camerawork. Sadly, he's all too successful, muddling the narrative so effectively that you'll have little idea what's going on. As per usual, Firth is convincingly morose but his character never becomes that interesting, while Suvari's perky presence only makes you wonder why every film made in this country has to star at least one token Yank.

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