Review: "See No Evil"

by Jeff McGinnis, Lead Usher

*1/2 stars (out of four)
100 minutes, Now Showing

If Vince McMahon is going to persist in his delusion that his success in wrestling is going to automatically be transferable to success in film production, my first suggestion would be to find someone else to write the scripts. Dan Madigan, the "writer" of the first WWE Films project, "See No Evil," has no previous credits listed on IMDB.com, save for being a writer of WWE SmackDown (exclamation point optional). And his first foray into feature film "writing" reflects an astounding lack of imagination, originality, character or even simple craft.

I do not ask a lot of my moviegoing experiences, really. What I want, first and foremost, is that the filmmakers demonstrate at some level that they actually cared about the project. Not every film has to have memorable dialogue, great characters and original situations. But even one of those things can make an utterly mediocre movie into a decent one, or make a decent film a good one. "See No Evil" is an assembly line horror film, with utterly nothing that hasn't been seen, done, re-done and re-re-done a thousand times before. It is not scary, it is not original, it is not even memorably violent for horror fans with a taste for such things. Everything in it is utterly without value.

The plot is as simple as it could be while still allowing Dan Madigan to earn a credit for "writing" it. A cop and his partner respond to a distress call in a run-down house and are assaulted by a hulking maniac with an axe. (No prizes for guessing that WWE wrestler Kane is the hulking maniac.) One of them killed, the other has his hand cut off, but then seemingly shoots the killer through the head, but (da da) no body is found. Flash forward four years, the same now-handless cop is working with troubled youths and takes a group of them to a rundown hotel for the weekend to help renovate the place so it can become a homeless shelter. The hulking maniac in question lives in the top floors and picks everyone off one by one. Plus or minus a few details, there ya go.

The cop is basically the only individual in the film that generates an even remote level of individuality. The juvenile delinquents, the supposed "leads" of the movie, each have their names and crimes flashed on screen when their characters are introduced, and that's the extent of their character development. None of them is given anything noteworthy to say beyond smug profane outbursts and screams. They are all cardboard cutouts with bare-bones traits that in most cases will prove to be their oh-so-ironic undoing (the animal rights activist will be eaten by dogs, the pickpocket will be found because the cell phone she stole rings, etc.). We cannot make any judgments of the performing ability of any of them, because acting requires something to act.

Nor can we really make a judgment of Glen "Kane" Jacobs, the supposed star of the film. The role requires little more than lumbering around wielding an axe, a hook, a chain, and plucked out eyeballs, with a mild bit of pathos thrown in toward the end (in a "plot twist" that is as obvious as the ridge on Kane's face). He plays his role just fine, I guess, but then no talent is necessary to play it. It's readily apparent that this movie is designed with creating a franchise for him in mind, but compared to the screen presence and inherent charisma of The Rock, Kane's future is shaky.

The look of the film is not bad, I suppose. The interiors of the hotel have a worn down, potentially creepy feel, but all look invariably more like a movie set rather than an actual location. The editing has a bunch of jump cuts and flash frames, like the opening of "Seven," only for the whole movie. The director, Gregory Dark, has extensive experience in music videos, apparently, as his previous credits include work with Xzibit and Britney Spears, so he has at least some nominal flair for visuals. There may be hope - David Fincher came from music videos, too, and his first project was Alien3.

I must correct myself slightly. I said earlier that the film was not at all original. I must admit that this is the first film I can recall to end with a shot of a dog urinating into an empty eye socket. I'm sure Paul Haggis is just slapping his forehead with his palm right now, wishing he had thought of that to close "Million Dollar Baby."