Quite possibly the bitchiest, queeniest movie ever made. And that's just Roddy McDowall.
How can you review this? If you study cinema, you *must* watch it, because it makes apparent everything you take for granted in a film.
Nothing in this film works, except that slightly different photos are presented, one after the other, to simulate movement. Everything else is up for grabs.
There is no way this film should work. A modern day noir film set in a high school. And yet it does. But some fucked up alchemy, it does. They're there. The disassociated detective, his hands stuffed down into the pockets of his (non) trench coat. The femme fatales. The brainless muscle. The authority figure who's more a force of nature to be directed to a target than an ally. What a miraculous movie.