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Suspect Zero

“Suspect Zero” is directed in an odd way, both dreamy and claustrophobic, that feels annoying until you realize it’s on purpose.   It’s the way the characters — two of them– are living their lives, and we’re supposed to feel the way they feel.  OK. 

This is a B-movie serial killer flick that, plotwise, is the daddy of all serial killer flicks –it’s about a serial killer whose victims are serial killers – but production-wise, falls way short of the greats.   Maybe even plotwise – can there really be that many serial killers operating at once in America?   But plausibility’s not the point here.   Actually I’m not sure what is the point.   Ben Kingsley as a weirdo creep?   Effective.   Eckhart and Carrie Moss in a complicated love-hate relationship?   Definitely not effective.  The itchy atmosphere?   Maybe.   “Suspect Zero” is the woolen Christmas sweater of serial killer flicks – uncomfortable, but probably on purpose, and, well, reliably there.   It might have the moxy and oddness to become sort of a cult returner, but then again, maybe not.

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