As horror movies go, "Sinister"
displays more imagination than most and
produces the requisite number of chills. Unfortunately all this happens
in the last 15 minutes or so. Up until then this is mostly a case of
missed opportunities to scare the living daylights out of us as
true-crime writer Ethan Hawke and his family move into a house where
four people were murdered so that he can write a book about the events.
It's the kind of film in which no-one acts rationally but then in horror
movies no-one acts rationally anyway; if they did there would be no
movie. It also doesn't help that Hawke is such an annoyingly smug
son-of-a-bitch, (no change there, then), about whom we don't give a damn
and yet he's really the only real character in the film. There are
certainly worse horror movies, (this one is surprisingly gore-free), but
you still have to sit through a lot of dross to get to the good bits.
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