I thought that the days of ending a horror film with, "And then he woke up to find it was all a bad dream" had died 20 years ago, but here comes this appalling drivel to prove that there's always some feeble writer that thinks this unbelievably weak get-out of jail free card is clever. I can only assume that the writer himself has spent the last two decades otherwise engaged.
Okay, in this case, all of the horror pieces are simply elements of real life, woven into a schizo's psychotic fantasy, but what an unbelievable cheap shot. Because by making everything part of a delusion, none of the mysterious threads ever need to be logically resolved; and not a single one of them is resolved. Dead kids in rocking chairs, ghost child's voices at night, ghostly house sellers, murdered settlers, ancient burial grounds, disappearing real estate salesmen, and forgetful handymen are just random events that need no explanation, nor does the film even bother. The director has essentially thrown together half dozen mildly intriguing ghost mystery clichés, then rather than answer any, the protagonist simply wakes up in a straight jacket, and that's supposed to provide a satisfactory explanation. I can barely express the contempt I feel for the laziness of the script-writing that brought about this conclusion.
The really sad thing is, the movie had an interesting atmosphere, and was worth providing a sensible, logical ending. Yet another example of how 90 minutes can be ruined in the last 60 seconds. Like doing a 100 metre sprint and tripping just before the line.
Okay, in this case, all of the horror pieces are simply elements of real life, woven into a schizo's psychotic fantasy, but what an unbelievable cheap shot. Because by making everything part of a delusion, none of the mysterious threads ever need to be logically resolved; and not a single one of them is resolved. Dead kids in rocking chairs, ghost child's voices at night, ghostly house sellers, murdered settlers, ancient burial grounds, disappearing real estate salesmen, and forgetful handymen are just random events that need no explanation, nor does the film even bother. The director has essentially thrown together half dozen mildly intriguing ghost mystery clichés, then rather than answer any, the protagonist simply wakes up in a straight jacket, and that's supposed to provide a satisfactory explanation. I can barely express the contempt I feel for the laziness of the script-writing that brought about this conclusion.
The really sad thing is, the movie had an interesting atmosphere, and was worth providing a sensible, logical ending. Yet another example of how 90 minutes can be ruined in the last 60 seconds. Like doing a 100 metre sprint and tripping just before the line.