Reeker review

Brave. Stupid. Confident. Title your movie Reeker and you have to be one of the above. So which is debut director Dave Payne? Maybe it's the first: it takes balls of Adamantium to make a horror movie that pivots on such a wrung-out twist. Maybe it's the third: a modern-day monster movie that doesn't feature its creature until the closing reel, Val Lewton-style? Alas, it's the second: witness the bit where one protagonist spies another's severed arm and enquires, "Are you okay?" The premise is equally shonky, as five unlikeable twentysomethings are stranded at a deserted motorcourt, without transport, hunted by some tweaked-out thing. Reeking of decay, its arrival is initially signalled with wrinkled noses and shimmering air effects - yes, it's scary heat-haze time - but the climactic reveal is sure to elicit gasps of, "Oh, is that it?"

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