Jennifer 8 promises a plot of excruciating complexity, however the storyline turns relentlessly dumb. By the cease the characters may as well be wearing name tags: “Hi! I’m the serial killer!” This is the sort of movie in which every person makes avoidable mistakes so as for the plot to wend its torturous way to an unsatisfactory conclusion.
Somebody should have taken a hard take a look at the screenplay and determined that it wasn’t finished.
The movie stars Andy Garcia as a big-town detective who’s getting better from a awful marriage with a cheating wife. He returns to the smaller city wherein his brother in law is a cop.
Within mins of his arrival, he is digging thru a rubbish dump on the lookout for frame parts, and, in no time flat, he’s on the trail of a serial killer.
Deducing that a severed hand belonged to a blind person and that it become in a freezer for a protracted time, Garcia runs a pc seek and discovers a pattern: Eight blind women have been killed, all with .22 revolvers, and mutilated, within a 300-mile radius. This is obviously the paintings of a serial killer, he announces, best to arouse the fury of the local cop who became at the case of the authentic lacking woman.
The movie turns into a police procedural as Garcia interviews the blind roommate (Uma Thurman) of one of the missing girls. Before long they’ve fallen into a specially unconvincing love affair; I didn’t agree with it because Thurman, typically so alive in her roles, right here translates her individual as a soggy zombie who occasionally musters a smile. At Christmas she gets all dressed up to visit a birthday celebration, however retreats in tears to the bedroom after she loses her way and each person talks loudly at the identical time. That wouldn’t forestall any of the blind birthday party animals I’ve known.
The movie has no insights about the blind; aside from the advantage significantly from talking alarm clocks and don’t need any mild bulbs of their bedrooms. Blindness is truly every other plot gimmick in a film with so many it is able to hardly consider what corner it’s presently cutting. Like many needlessly complicated movies, it plays long – sincerely long – and it is a alleviation when John Malkovich appears, at approximately the 90 minute mark, playing an FBI man who accuses Garcia of murder.
The murder in query has to be seen to be believed. One cop climbs a fireplace escape into a building in which he suspects the killer is hiding. He tells his partner, If all and sundry comes down this fire get away however me, shoot. Somebody else comes down the fire escape, shining a flashlight into the eyes of the opposite cop, who, of course, stands in complete view to make himself a better target, and does now not shoot. Even movie police officers should be smarter than that.