You're Killing Me

I should’ve kept a list of all the stupid decisions and elements lifted wholesale from other movies, because this movie would not exist without them. The list would be so long, you’d think it was a Russian tragedy novel. There is not a moment where the plot isn’t advanced by a character making the most illogical and unrealistic decision possible. And before someone says that’s how a lot of movies, especially horror movies, happen, save it. This is so much worse. A character is standing there, having climbed down a ladder out the window, she has a cell phone in hand, and someone is coming at her. Does she dial 911? Does she run? No, she climbs the ladder again and drops the phone. WHAT THE HELL MOVIE. This most just is not possible without its characters being shoved in the direction the plot needs to occur, even if it never makes a lick of sense. Then there’s the movie’s inability to have an original moment. Every development can be seen coming 100 miles off, even if you’ve spent the afternoon staring directly at the sun. You’ll find more surprises going through your own pockets or flicking a light switch. But I’m not done, because this movie also has the worst case of not understanding what its audience is wants. You come expecting some kills, right? Of the six that occur, FOUR are off-screen, and one — the final kill, the one that should be the most cathartic and rapturous and enjoyable — is so disappointing, the final words of the villain double as an insult aimed at the movie for being giving the viewer emotional blue balls. The only saving grace is McKaley Miller. She’s fun and has an energy that keeps this movie’s flailing, flagging momentum from coming completely undone. I hope she has a good career ahead of her and can forget about this. I wish I could.