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A Demon in My View (1991)
Without a doubt, this is the worst film I've ever watched. It is a shame to watch Anthony Perkins go through this embarrassment.
Surprisingly enough, the previews for A Demon in My View looked attractive. I watched this film on a promotional screener tape, and the preview ran before the movie. Luckily, I skipped over it (I hate knowing too much about a film before I watch it) and returned to view the trailer after the film was over. I say "luckily" because if I had watched the trailer first, my opinion of the film itself would be much lower.
The trailer promises a "psychological thriller" about a serial killer with a double identity. It shows Anthony Perkins grimacing and grunting, chasing women to strangle them and womanizing in other ways (at least it makes it appear that he is -- as you discover in the movie, he's not the womanizer). The trailer is edited in a way that promises a lot of action, thrills and maybe even some brutal murder scenes.
Instead, what you get when you watch the movie, is . . . well, basically an unclassifiable bore of a film about mail and mannequins (one of the mannequins is Anthony Perkins). The beginning is actually promising, as the opening scene features Perkins strangling a woman for no apparent reason. That's a good way to start a thriller. On the other hand, there's obviously something missing already at this point-namely, any sense of tension or danger and a total absence of style.
Then the credits start. Then we're transported to an unrelated couple making love. It's not particularly interesting, but at least there's some sex in the film. Then the hour long bore sets in for what seems like five hours. You see, Anthony Perkins' character is named Arthur Johnson. He lives on the top floor of an apartment building in England (Perkins lets you know this by employing the worst English accent you've ever heard). The bottom floor is vacant. They end up renting to an Anthony Johnson -- oh, the horror! Their mail might get mixed up! And worse yet, Perkins may not be able to cuddle the evil mannequin he has in the shed -- the one that the new A. Johnson's window looks out at! If he can't cuddle the evil mannequin, you won't know how evil Perkins is! You won't remember that this is a psychological thriller! You won't be scared!!
And all that happens is the mail gets mixed up, Perkins shows what a prude he is (if he really acted like this, he probably would have been killed himself 20 years ago), and he sneaks in to see the mannequin whenever he can. That's it. For an hour. One whole hour of your life. Time you could spend, say . . . oh, working on your taxes.
Apparently Perkins is the "Kenbore Killer" -- a serial killer for whom the English police have been searching for 25 years. Only, at one point in the film, it is suggested that Perkins had only killed one person 25 years ago. That is, at least until the last half-hour of A Demon in My View, when director Petra Haffter films some of the most incredibly boring stalked-by-a-psychopathic-strangler scenes that you've ever witnessed. These are death scenes that are so riveting you have to flash the VCR clock on your screen at least once every 20 seconds. And they're accompanied by really "scary" radio-production-bed-sounding cheesy music.
Alright, I'm sick of talking about it already. I'm actually getting the urge to watch C.H.U.D. II or The Mod Squad -- they're masterpieces next to this film. You shouldn't even be allowed to watch A Demon in My View if you're a masochist. I suggest burning all remaining copies.