A thriller as slow-burn as debut writer / director Andrew Hunt's "The Infernal Machine" relies on its ending, which here is self-satisfied, contrived & implausible... wasting some terrific dark & moody set up work. Reclusive writer Guy Pearce (always solid) lives in isolation after his only novel inspired a mass-shooter 40yrs+ ago. Then SOMEONE starts sending him persistent 'fan mail'... but is it more sinister than that (duh)? Is it the jailed shooter Alex Pettyfor? Will Pearce get help from pretty cop Alice Eve (whose performance epitomises the whole movie: surprisingly good, til ultimately it ain't)? Worthy questions all, all sadly let down by that bloated ending. Shame... sigh.