Nicholas Cage is an Alaskan State Trooper about to retire to milder climes, with the eager approval of his wife, Radha Mitchell. A case comes to him though. An Anchorage hooker, Vanessa Hudgens, is weeping at the police station, claiming she was kidnapped, bound, and about to be killed in the woods by a maniac. It was a miracle she escaped. A light bulb goes on in Cage's mind. This reminds him of a dozen unsolved cases involving disappearing hookers. His colleagues are not amused.
Of course her story is real, and Cage's intuition is in proper working order. Those cases -- and many more -- are all linked because they were committed by the same lunatic serial killer, John Cusack.
The police balk, Cage's State Troopers balk, the justice system balks, and there is too little evidence to pick up Cusack, who is, after all, a mild-mannered Anchorage baker. He's given to hunting trips in the far woods but what man in Alaska isn't? And everyone but Cage believes that Cusack's hunting territory and the burial grounds of some of the hookers is just a coincidence.
So far, so good. Interesting fact-based story, professionally competent performers, and a sizable budget allowing for magnificent aerial shots of the gray, craggy, snowy mountains. The script and the director manage to turn it into something resembling an inexpensive, Canadian-made, feature on Lifetime Movie Network.
I'll give just a few brief illustrations. Hudgens has escaped from Cusack's clutches but she has seen him and can identify him. Cusack knows this so he is prowling the streets of the bars and whorehouses where she hangs out, hoping somehow to kill her. Hudgens knows this, and so does Cage. So Cage takes her to the only place she'll be safe -- his own home. Then, in compliance with the usual formula, Cage's wife begins shouting at him. She wants to move, they've already sent out the required papers, she cares nothing about threatened whores, only about her own family. Why save a life when it interferes with your plans to move? But Radha Mitchell's protestations don't count for much because Hudgens gathers her stuff together, escapes from Cage's house, and returns to her old haunts in the red light district, although of course she knows Cusack is hunting her there. When she's hospitalized from a slight overdose of crack, an officer is assigned to protect her, but she escapes yet again from a place of safety. She becomes a pole dancer. She does everything but wear a neon bulls eye on her frame.
The direction is okay except that once in a while, for no evident reason, the camera is made to wobble and focus on an unimportant image, or a pointless close up, as if this were a TV commercial for a brokerage firm.
What keeps the movie going -- aside from its constant asking of the persistent question, "How stupid can I get?" -- are the performances. Some of the supporting cast are shaky, but Vanessa Hudgens as the young woman in jeopardy is not. Her turn is sterling. Nicholas Cage is surprisingly subdued. He's one of those actors who generally brings something extra to each role, but not here. He plays one note on his instrument, worried and a little angry. John Cusack is very good, once the script gives him a chance to unwind from his stereotypical part. His delivery in the interrogation room is smooth, passionate, and clumsy. ("You bring up this past-based stuff.") It's not a bad film, gloomy though it is. It's just that it could have been so much better with a bit of care.
Of course her story is real, and Cage's intuition is in proper working order. Those cases -- and many more -- are all linked because they were committed by the same lunatic serial killer, John Cusack.
The police balk, Cage's State Troopers balk, the justice system balks, and there is too little evidence to pick up Cusack, who is, after all, a mild-mannered Anchorage baker. He's given to hunting trips in the far woods but what man in Alaska isn't? And everyone but Cage believes that Cusack's hunting territory and the burial grounds of some of the hookers is just a coincidence.
So far, so good. Interesting fact-based story, professionally competent performers, and a sizable budget allowing for magnificent aerial shots of the gray, craggy, snowy mountains. The script and the director manage to turn it into something resembling an inexpensive, Canadian-made, feature on Lifetime Movie Network.
I'll give just a few brief illustrations. Hudgens has escaped from Cusack's clutches but she has seen him and can identify him. Cusack knows this so he is prowling the streets of the bars and whorehouses where she hangs out, hoping somehow to kill her. Hudgens knows this, and so does Cage. So Cage takes her to the only place she'll be safe -- his own home. Then, in compliance with the usual formula, Cage's wife begins shouting at him. She wants to move, they've already sent out the required papers, she cares nothing about threatened whores, only about her own family. Why save a life when it interferes with your plans to move? But Radha Mitchell's protestations don't count for much because Hudgens gathers her stuff together, escapes from Cage's house, and returns to her old haunts in the red light district, although of course she knows Cusack is hunting her there. When she's hospitalized from a slight overdose of crack, an officer is assigned to protect her, but she escapes yet again from a place of safety. She becomes a pole dancer. She does everything but wear a neon bulls eye on her frame.
The direction is okay except that once in a while, for no evident reason, the camera is made to wobble and focus on an unimportant image, or a pointless close up, as if this were a TV commercial for a brokerage firm.
What keeps the movie going -- aside from its constant asking of the persistent question, "How stupid can I get?" -- are the performances. Some of the supporting cast are shaky, but Vanessa Hudgens as the young woman in jeopardy is not. Her turn is sterling. Nicholas Cage is surprisingly subdued. He's one of those actors who generally brings something extra to each role, but not here. He plays one note on his instrument, worried and a little angry. John Cusack is very good, once the script gives him a chance to unwind from his stereotypical part. His delivery in the interrogation room is smooth, passionate, and clumsy. ("You bring up this past-based stuff.") It's not a bad film, gloomy though it is. It's just that it could have been so much better with a bit of care.