THE HAWK
Yeah, okay, whatever


  Five minutes in, I had no idea what to expect here.  The cover promises a lurid sort of eroto-thriller that's likely to star somebody named Shannon.  The back of the box insists it's Hitchcockian.  And the first five minutes of this movie were just fucking SCARY.

Then things go downhill.

Helen Mirren stars as a housewife obviously on the verge of a nervous breakdown - and who can blame her, with those two screaming brats she's raised.  But the shit's really about to hit the fan for her, because she's starting to suspect that her husband is The Hawk, a nasty serial killer.

It's slow, slow going, filmed in that weird 1:1.6 European aspect ratio, surprises in the plot completely bouncing right off of me with no effect whatsoever, and frankly, it's just hard to care here.

And who's that chick on the cover?  That sure ain't Mirren - sure, she's beautiful in that "over 40" sense, but she ain't got a bod like that!

If you can fix your attention solidly on this movie past the forty-minute mark, you've got a firmer resolve than mine. 

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