Superlative British shocker: expertly directed, beautifully constructed, and scintillatingly shot.
Greta, you’re no Cujo. But you’re pretty cute. It’s the best you can do when your film is produced by…a construction company?
“Atta boy, Luther!”
I come in peace. And you go in pieces, assh*le.
Her driver’s license. Her credit cards. Her bank accounts. Her identity. DELETED.
Cold, impersonal, distant Frankenstein re-imagining―and a fairly perverse jab at its horror/suspense genre conventions.
“What you hunting this time?” “Going to shoot some pigs.”