My wife and I love horror movies and bad ones at that, but this is failure on all levels.
It starts with bad cinematography, as we see the "happy couple" looking for the hotel. The whole exchange is shot from behind each actors shoulder. And throughout the couples check and initial dialogue with the neighbor we hardly get a clear shot of the actors faces, except in the hotel mirror.
The first half of the film amounts to a bad retelling on the shining. Jerk of a boyfriend has writers block and becomes a drunk, while the girlfriend supports them both (we see no emotional connection in the actors or reason for us to believe they are even sleeping together, let alone in a relationship). Vaguely odd things happen, a purple coolaid stain on the bed (which we are to believe is blood) comes and goes, the "writer" sees ghosts, and we discover the "writer" isn't really writing.
At this point the girlfriend gets sick and so does the plot. The bf freaks out and leaves, and the gf, jobless (because she has been sick for so long), is left to face the supposed evil of the room alone. In the only successful jump scene of the move the gf takes a shower only to find a dirty, gray-haired hippy squatting in the shower behind her.
The climatic scene of the film is little more than the ghost of the gf's mother telling her to leave alternated with another ghost telling her to stay and the gf pacing or rolling on the floors.
I feel this film is victim of a singular lack of vision on the part of the writer/director/editor. It seems that a lot of promising elements were here, but they failed to be developed by either the writer, the director, or the editor.
It starts with bad cinematography, as we see the "happy couple" looking for the hotel. The whole exchange is shot from behind each actors shoulder. And throughout the couples check and initial dialogue with the neighbor we hardly get a clear shot of the actors faces, except in the hotel mirror.
The first half of the film amounts to a bad retelling on the shining. Jerk of a boyfriend has writers block and becomes a drunk, while the girlfriend supports them both (we see no emotional connection in the actors or reason for us to believe they are even sleeping together, let alone in a relationship). Vaguely odd things happen, a purple coolaid stain on the bed (which we are to believe is blood) comes and goes, the "writer" sees ghosts, and we discover the "writer" isn't really writing.
At this point the girlfriend gets sick and so does the plot. The bf freaks out and leaves, and the gf, jobless (because she has been sick for so long), is left to face the supposed evil of the room alone. In the only successful jump scene of the move the gf takes a shower only to find a dirty, gray-haired hippy squatting in the shower behind her.
The climatic scene of the film is little more than the ghost of the gf's mother telling her to leave alternated with another ghost telling her to stay and the gf pacing or rolling on the floors.
I feel this film is victim of a singular lack of vision on the part of the writer/director/editor. It seems that a lot of promising elements were here, but they failed to be developed by either the writer, the director, or the editor.