Reviewed Jul 16, 2012
Ghuznee Film Society Review: White Noise
d. Geoffery Sax
Starring: Michael Keaton
It’s a sad day when something like this comes along. It reminds you that some people, despite pouring all their creative energy into a project still can only ever dredge up something that puts ‘constipation’ to shame in terms of banal and frustrating ways to spend a Tuesday night in.
The worst thing is that it’s near impossible to work up much emotion about this thing when none of the characters can seem to either. It’s all relative: If I’m getting all irate at two hours of my life being whittled away by some supernatural ballsache of a production, I’ll be putting twice the energy into the viewing as the protagonist could muster dealing with his wife’s death. His emotional range is so stunted that they could only show shots of him crying from the back. Believe me, it doesn’t take many acting chops to turn your back to the camera and shudder like a wet fish.
So there’s some kind of psuedo-scientific procedure whereby you can talk to dead relatives. The wifeless protagonist buys into the system that some morbidly obese guy’s peddling, and - suprise! -. unleashes bad and deadly special effects every night at 2:30 am. Cue stupid premonitions, cheap quick cut scares that make you feel bad about jumping and a few incomprehensible twists, and there it is! White Noise.