It Watches (2016)

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Starring Ivan Djurovic, Rick Irwin, Sanny van Heteren

Directed by Dave Parker


Ouch. Pardon me for announcing my pain out loud, but there are those certain films that have been known to induce varying levels of pain when watched. Allow me to introduce this month’s implement of torture – It Watches… and for the sake of your own personal safety, perhaps you shouldn’t. (Although we do have some more positive reviews on the site here and here from some earlier screenings and the film’s festival run under the title ColdWater.)

Directed by Dave Parker, the movie’s main character is Andre (Djurovic), and after suffering a particularly nasty head injury in an accident that leaves him with a touch of amnesia, he’s offered a house-sitting job from a pal (Irwin) that should register some easy greenbacks. What Andre doesn’t know (or remember) is that this particular house is in fact one of horrors (same can be said for the film). The only thing non-horrific about this dwelling is the copious amount of booze and weed that’s been stowed away for Andre to partake in, and you’d need it to contend with all the damn creepy-assed busts and mannequins that are littered around the place.

Found footage (my nemesis) is somewhat used as a shooting technique here, with Andre using security cameras and web-cams to help jog his memory (thanks, Doc), and you’ll grow a bit tired of the stagnant activity that these image-capturors reel in at times. Jump-scares are supplanted with endless ticks of time setting up the scares… which frankly don’t come very often.

The idea that Andre has suffered a traumatic injury to his gray matter would certainly explain some of his actions in the film, but do we all really need to be subject to it? Throw in a potential love interest (van Heteren) and an unusually eerie fella (James Duval) that comes knocking, posing as a neighbor that’s warning Andre about some vicious souls patrolling the neighborhood.

As the night rolls on, Andre begins to uncover some evidence that solidifies the thought that he certainly isn’t taking up space in this house alone at the time, but the ever-switching camera angles and inane plot direction steer this one towards a very thick brick wall before it ever gets the chance to gain any traction. The “guess-who” premise runs dry extremely fast, and the performances are as lifeless as the mannequins that infest the home – my advice (which ain’t worth a hill of beans) would be to take a very large pass on this one, for the pain you’ll endure will certainly be some of the ocular kind.

 

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