Taking a much-needed trip to Trashville, I watched this, one of that glut of late ’90s Scream imis, sporting an above-average cast and a clever driving idea. It was really quite relaxingly good – as much as you can describe a film where a guy gets tied to a toilet and has drain cleanser poured down his throat as relaxing – in a My Bloody Valentine way (the film, not the band). Then it did one of the biggest final-act collapses ever, with a wretchedly idiotic climax. The only question it left was why no-one uses Alicia Witt more; she’s way better than the parts she gets. Perhaps debuting in Dune hexed her.