Marie Belloc's novel, serves once again as the basis of this 2009 treatment that doesn't go anywhere. Partly, the fault lies with the treatment of its well intentioned writer/director, David Ondaatje. His inexperience, perhaps, was the factor that this movie probably went into DVD right away, as it appears the commercial run didn't go anywhere since it must have come and gone without much publicity, or word of mouth.
The locale of the story has been changed from London to a rainy Los Angeles, seen mostly at night. The serial killer who is killing prostitutes in a seedy part of town is following in the steps of Jack the Ripper, the famed English killer. This sick man finds digs in what appears to be an uninhabited garage in the back of a house that has seen better days. The mysterious lodger catches the landlady's fancy; this woman is stuck in a bad marriage. She looks as though she is not dealing with reality, but the attraction the new renter has upon her proves to be too much.
When the dead women begin to surface, detective Chandler Manning has to face guilty feelings because the present killer has the same M.O. as the man he has sent to the electric chair a short time before. Manning has a suspicion the murders follow the same logic as the ones committed almost a century ago in London. His obsession gets the best of him, making him lose perspective.
The picture fails because the way Mr. Ondaatje presents the story. There is no suspense in most of the action. If the viewer happens to be a fan of the genre, he would notice things that will spoil the fun for him. The director doesn't create enough atmosphere to do justice to what he tried to do.
The talented cast is totally wasted. Alfred Molina and Hope Davis are excellent actors, but the way they were asked to portray their characters is not believable. For one, the detective of Mr. Molina, or the vapid landlady of Ms. Davis, will not add anything to their brilliant careers.
The locale of the story has been changed from London to a rainy Los Angeles, seen mostly at night. The serial killer who is killing prostitutes in a seedy part of town is following in the steps of Jack the Ripper, the famed English killer. This sick man finds digs in what appears to be an uninhabited garage in the back of a house that has seen better days. The mysterious lodger catches the landlady's fancy; this woman is stuck in a bad marriage. She looks as though she is not dealing with reality, but the attraction the new renter has upon her proves to be too much.
When the dead women begin to surface, detective Chandler Manning has to face guilty feelings because the present killer has the same M.O. as the man he has sent to the electric chair a short time before. Manning has a suspicion the murders follow the same logic as the ones committed almost a century ago in London. His obsession gets the best of him, making him lose perspective.
The picture fails because the way Mr. Ondaatje presents the story. There is no suspense in most of the action. If the viewer happens to be a fan of the genre, he would notice things that will spoil the fun for him. The director doesn't create enough atmosphere to do justice to what he tried to do.
The talented cast is totally wasted. Alfred Molina and Hope Davis are excellent actors, but the way they were asked to portray their characters is not believable. For one, the detective of Mr. Molina, or the vapid landlady of Ms. Davis, will not add anything to their brilliant careers.