Cast: Ashley Judd, Samuel L. Jackson, Andy Garcia, David Strathairn, Russell Wong, Camryn Manheim
Director: Philip Kaufman
Producers: Arnold Kopelson, Anne Kopelson, Barry Baeres, Linne Radmin
Screenplay: Sarah Thorp
Cinematography: Peter Deming
Music: Mark Isham
U.S. Distributor: Paramount Pictures
Twisted is a D-grade thriller with an A-list cast. It's a disappointment from start to finish, as well-respected director Philip Kaufman (who is apparently doing this for a paycheck) is unable to generate any tension or momentum from the tired story. Like seemingly every psychological thriller to reach the silver screen, this one is overflowing will red herrings and dead ends, but the big "twist" at the end is so lame and nonsensical that it shatters any hope the film might have had of attaining respectability. For most of the 97-minute running time, Twisted merely bored me with its predictable and repetitive rhythms. But, in the final quarter-hour, it committed the unpardonable sin of insulting my intelligence.
It's unclear who could have mistaken Sarah Thorp's screenplay for something worth filming. (Then again, maybe it was worthwhile before the script doctors got done with their butchering.) This is a by-the-numbers serial killer movie that takes no chances and offers the audience little more than a few sparse, cheap thrills. There's plenty of atmosphere and some nice camera work, but those things don't begin to fill the gap left by the hollowness of the writing. Admittedly, due to the law of conservation of characters and running time limitations, most thrillers of this sort are doomed to the lower circles of B-movie hell before they get into development. Twisted is just another example of a motion picture that will surprise and delight only those who see movies less frequently than they see their dentist.
Jessica Shepard (Ashley Judd) is a recently-promoted Inspector in the San Francisco Police Force's homicide squad. Her first case with her new partner, Mike Delmarco (Andy Garcia), is to track down a serial killer. The victims have two things in common. The backs of their hands bear burn marks from a cigarette (the killer's "signature") and they have all engaged in sex with Jessica. When the latter fact becomes known around the department, the Lieutenant (Russell Wong) wants Jessica to be removed from the case. She's either a suspect or the target. However, the Commissioner, John Mills (Samuel L. Jackson), who also happens to be Jessica's guardian, decides to use her as bait. Yet the murders continue, and, since each happens when Jessica is experiencing a blackout from drinking too much, she begins to suspect that she may be the one responsible.
There are few questions about the credentials of the actors, but no one is close to being in top form. It's as if, like Kaufman, they recognized that the material wasn't that good, but the need to keep busy overrode the quality of the project. (Hey, even actors need to pay the bills…) Once, not that long ago, Ashley Judd could be counted on to give a riveting performance every time out. Then, somehow, she got tagged with the "star" label, and, since then, she has been slumming in improbable thrillers with "gotcha!" endings. With each successive one (Double Jeopardy, Eye of the Beholder, High Crimes), there has been an observable decline in the effectiveness of her work, and Twisted represents an all-time low. Her acting here verges on the embarrassing. Andy Garcia isn't much better - he's his normal unemotive self. In the right role, Garcia can exhibit a kind of quiet intensity. This is not the right role. Then there's Samuel L. Jackson, who is playing this part with the "mute" button firmly depressed. We spend much of the movie waiting for a typical Jackson "moment." When we get it, it's too late.
Had Twisted just been a formulaic journey into noir territory, it might have managed to entertain in an uninspired sort of way. But thrillers these days are obsessed with turning everything upside down during the closing scenes, trying desperately to achieve something that viewers will not expect. By now, however, audiences have been indoctrinated to anticipate a final twist, so only the most inventive or inept movies manage to surprise. Too often, as in Twisted, the climax makes no sense - even when the filmmakers employ the talking killer cliché in an attempt to clear up the muddle. No film has an obligation to plug every plot hole, but, when a movie's internal logic falls apart so obviously, it loses all but the most forgiving viewers. Twisted deserves no forgiveness - it insults and exploits audience members who are just looking for a little unpretentious entertainment.
© 2004 James Berardinelli